


Rags and Riches

by ElenyasBlood



Category: CW Network RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Bottom Jared, CEO Jensen, Car Accidents, Community: spn_reversebang, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Trauma, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Dog Injuries, Minor Human Injuries, Slow Burn, homeless Jared, homophobic slur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-10 21:08:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 47,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3303497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElenyasBlood/pseuds/ElenyasBlood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared knows everything about living a tough life on the streets of New York City. He's used to a growling stomach, doesn't need a bath everyday, and as long as  he has his dog Harley at his side, no place is too far away, and no floor too hard to sleep on. The work can be hard and the nights long during winter in the city, but even though his pockets are always empty, Jared never actually feels robbed of anything.</p><p>Valuing his freedom over the comfort of a small apartment, he lives his life under the stars, until one day, something unforeseen happens that will turn his whole life around, involving a rich, young business man named Jensen Ackles and a car accident in the middle of the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his threadbare jeans, Jared trudged slowly down the street. The day had been long and he was exhausted, his muscles sore from walking around the city. The night was crisp, with a touch of frost lingering in the snow-heavy air, and Jared shivered as he pressed his face into the collar of his ratty shirt.

At this time of the day the streets were almost empty with just a few people hurrying down the sidewalks and each of them minding their own business. The skyscrapers were made out of glass here in West New York, their facades blank and brilliant, reflecting millions of lights from the never-sleeping city. The sidewalks were clean, like the cars lining up along the street: big, shiny things made out of glossy metal and soft leather cushions. The stores around here sold almost exclusively jewelry, the kind of necklaces and earrings that would allow Jared to sit back for a year and not have to worry what to eat the next day. The shop windows were brightly illuminated as were the golden price tags, and Jared involuntarily ducked his head as he passed a particularly luxurious store with two frowning guards standing next to the door.

All in all it wasn't exactly Jared's favorite part of the city, and he gently pulled Harley's leash, bringing the big, sturdy dog a little closer to his thigh as they attempted to cross the broad street. He missed the heavy, greasy smell of junk food and the taste of cold ashes on his tongue from downtown, missed the noisy chatter of thousands of people. He missed being wrapped up in the constant vibration of heavy trucks rolling down the crackling streets and the complete absence of the sickeningly sweet smell of rotten food in Manhattan was unnerving. Strolling around this part of the city felt wrong, and no matter how long Jared lived in New York City, he would never get used to the sight of first class hotels, eerily silent streets and long, shiny limousines. Limousines exactly like the one that was pulling around the corner right now, tires screeching, the headlights illuminating Jared's skinny legs as he stopped abruptly in his tracks.

Mouth hanging open, Jared untangled the leash from his wrist, crying, “Harley, run!” He launched himself forward, hoping he would be out of the car's reach.

His muscles screamed at the sudden pull, bones groaning as he crashed into the asphalt, and his mouth opened on a whimper. The pain that exploded in his wrist was crude and hot as it zinged through his nerves and made him choke on his breath, leaving him momentarily stunned. Jared could feel blood gathering on the asphalt beneath his palms and the familiar, nasty taste of copper spread on his tongue as he tried to get up. Cursing, he let his eyes roam feverishly across the street, heart stuttering and eyes stinging with unshed tears. With a racing heart he caught a glimpse of soft, yellow fur only a few feet away on the sidewalk.

“Buddy, c'mere, it's fine,” Jared cooed, gagging on a mouthful of blood. He managed to straighten up somewhat and pulled his bare, scraped knees up. The skin across the bones was raw and red where the gravel had pressed in, but aside from that and his palms he seemed unharmed.

Whining, Harley crept closer to Jared as the boy spoke gently to him. The dog was wagging his tail slowly and about to push his big, wet muzzle into the crook of Jared's neck, when noises from the other side of the road startled them both.

The glossy black car had come to park along the sidewalk and the smell of burned rubber from the swerving tires was still hanging in the crisp air. There was movement stirring inside the spacious vehicle and after a few more seconds the backdoor was kicked open. A pair of neatly laced leather shoes stepped out onto the clammy asphalt and an unfamiliar voice floated through the air. It was whiskey-smooth as it gruffly demanded an explanation and immediately the driver's door opened, revealing a man in a smooth black suit, complete with awkward hat and white gloves. The driver attempted to make a hasty excuse, but the guy with the expensive looking leather shoes seemed impatient as he hauled himself out of the bowel's of the car.

Jared gasped when the light of the street lamps fell on the guy's face and this time it wasn't out of pain. Mr. Glossy-Leather-Shoe was downright gorgeous, from the neatly slicked-back, brown hair down to his plush lips and the custom-made, pristine pin-stripe suit. Jared thought that the tie looked a little ridiculous considering that it was four in the morning, but he didn't have time to give it a second thought, for the two arguing men slowly started to walk over.

“Hey, you okay?” the pin-stripe suit guy asked, eyeing the bulky dog next to Jared cautiously.

“Please, Mr. Ackles, let me handle this,” the driver cut in, approaching Jared, who was still sprawled over the damp asphalt. “Are you all right, young man?”

Jared shook his head. “Whadda ya think, dude? You almost ran me over with your fucking car,” he spat as he fumbled for Harley's leash. The dog was still whining low in his throat, his muzzle nudging Jared's cheek gently. Despite being a giant Ridgeback-mix, built like a brick shithouse and with paws as wide as Jared's palms, Harley was a scaredy cat and nothing but a big softy.

“It's bound to happen when you're walking in the middle of the road at three o'clock in the morning,” the driver replied, his dark brows knitted together. He was big, with broad shoulders and shaggy hair.

“I was just crossing the street, you jackass,” Jared countered and was about to scramble to his feet when he felt a wave of nausea wash over him, making him stagger. With a huff he slid back to the ground and rubbed his aching temple just to feel wetness on his fingertips.

“Looks like we gotta take you to a hospital, young man,” the driver said, a look of mild disgust on his face as he scanned Jared's appearance.

The boy on the ground looked so much different from the two men looming over him. His sweater was beat-up and littered with holes, the jeans threadbare and splattered with mud. Every inch of Jared was dust-stained, from the black beanie down to the run-down sneakers which at some point might have been white but were now a sluggish brown. Even Jared's skin was different: still slightly tanned from a summer spent outside, smudged with dirt and flushed from the day's exhaustion, a sliver of ink peeking out from beneath the sweater at the junction of his neck and shoulder.

“Seriously, Jeff?” The younger man with the neat shoes stepped in, arms coming to cross in front of his broad chest.

“But young Mr. Ackles—“

“Oh come on, he doesn't need a hospital. He's fine, right? You're fine?”

Jared couldn't believe what he was hearing and for a moment he just gaped at the young man in front of him, watching a muscle in his chiseled jaw line twitch, one finger impatiently tapping against the bulk of his bicep.

Snorting, Jared gently nudged Harley away. “Are you fucking serious, dude? I'm freaking bleeding, my wrist feels like crap and oh, also this—“ He spat a splash of crimson blood on the ground.

Ackles shrugged. “You probably had those injuries before,” he replied, completely unfazed by Jared's performance.

“Yeah? Prove it, asshole,” Jared hissed back, struggling to get to his feet and though the world started spinning again the moment he straightened up, this time he managed to hold himself upright. Swaying lightly on his feet, he clutched Harley's collar for stability.

It was the driver of the limousine who stepped in before Ackles could open his mouth again. Minding the challenging sparkle in Jared's eyes and also the crimson flow of blood dripping down his temple, he turned his attention to suit-boy.

“Mr. Ackles, this young man clearly needs medical attention and I feel obliged to personally drive him to the hospital. He could have a concussion—“

“For crying out loud, Jeff,” Ackles cut in impatiently, voice gruff and the look on his face darkening. He was about to speak up again when a third body slipped out of the car and seconds later, high-heeled shoes clicked against the asphalt.

“Jensen, darling, what's the matter?” A flirty voice asked and a woman threaded her delicate hand into _Mr. Ackles_ ' hair from behind.

“Nothing, just a little inconvenience,” the man replied, sighing, as he gestured wildly to Jared, who was still battling with his consciousness, a dull pain rattling inside his skull. He could already feel a bump forming on his temple.

The woman wrinkled her nose. “Eww, what is _that_?”

Jared was about to hiss a spiteful reply, but the sturdy driver of the car beat him to it.

“Not a _what_ , but a _who_ ,” he corrected sternly. “We hit him with the car and now he needs to go to a hospital.”

The young woman raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow, her long nails tightening in _Mr. Ackles_ ' hair. “But Jensen, you can't afford to be seen with... him. It would be a scandal. I can already see the headlines: 'Young millionaire hits stray dog with a car and gets sued' or 'Jensen Ackles spotted with dirty, ragged hobo in the middle of the night'.” Her voice was high-pitched now, the look on her face disgusted.

Ackles shrugged. “Couldn't give a shit less about those gossip magazines,” he replied coldly, his eyes skimming up and down Jared's slightly swaying form.

“Jensen, you can't be serious! This is outrageous and I won't allow you to destroy your career like that.”

“If I may say—“ the driver attempted to speak only to be cut off immediately.

Letting go of Ackles, the woman spun on her heels. “Shut up, Jeffrey. No one asked for your opinion and I'm not going to drive in the same car as this... filth. He probably smells.”

Finally finding his tongue again, Jared gave an ugly snort before replying. “And what's it to you, huh? I doubt after all that plastic surgery you can still use that thing in your face anyway,”

For a moment Jared was sure Jensen was going to start laughing for his eyes were glinting with mischievous amusement and the corners of his mouth twitched tellingly. But the look on his face vanished as quickly as it had appeared and made room for a stern, annoyed look.

“Are you quite finished bickering?” he asked gruffly. “Because it's _still_ four in the fucking morning, I'm _still_ tired and we're _still_ standing in the middle of a road in New York fucking City.”

“Jensen,” the woman warned, her face flushed with anger. “Don't you dare to let that rabid dog and his beast crawl into the same car as you and me!”

Shaking his head, Jared spat another mouthful of blood on the asphalt, splattering the damp, black stone with red droplets. “Fuck you, lady. Seriously, just do it. I'm not coming with you anyway. 'Cause I've a sense of fucking pride, you know. And I'm sure as hell not gonna get in that car.”

The driver sucked in a sharp breath. “Young man, you're seriously injured—“

“Yeah? And who's fucking fault is that? That would be you, right? Pro tip dude: if you're too old to drive at night, _don't_.”

The groan Ackles' let out was beyond annoyed, his hands coming up to rub over his face. “This is ridiculous,” he snarled before he stepped away from the protesting woman. “I don't care what you all are doing, okay, but as far as I'm concerned I'm gonna get into that car now and get myself home, where a warm bed is waiting for me. And you—“ he pointed at the driver—“are the one who's going to drive me there.”

Jeffrey nodded silently.

Turning to face the woman, Ackles took her face in his hands, cupping her cheeks gently. “Jessica, honey, your hotel is right over there. Go and have a drink at the bar on me, then go to bed. Thank you for the nice evening, but I'm afraid this is goodbye.”

The woman was opening her mouth in an attempt to object but _Mr. Ackles_ cut her off rudely by letting go and walking towards the car.

Jared, who was still waiting hand buried in the ruff around Harley's thick neck, watched Ackles gesture vaguely in his direction as he spoke. “And you there, with the silly hat: either you get your sweet ass in the car and we'll give you a ride to the nearest hospital, or you stay right where the fuck you are and die for all I care. I'm done.”

Grinding his teeth until his jaw ached, Jared stood rooted to the ground while Ackles vanished inside the shiny car.

“You can't do this to me,” the girl exclaimed, but her date just pulled the door shut behind himself, completely ignoring the woman's angry shouting.

At least Jeffrey had the decency to show some embarrassment as he wished the woman goodbye with a curt bow.

As for Jared, he didn't know what to do. Yeah, his head hurt like a bitch and the blood running down his temple was warm, wet and alarming. His scraped palms stung and he winced every time he tried to move his wrist. But was it really bad enough to slip into a car with a prissy asshole of a stranger?

His body gave him the answer when he tried to take a tentative step forward just to feel his stomach lurch violently. Gasping he tried to regain his balance as he bent forward, throwing up on the asphalt, an ugly mix of blood, spit and his last meal from earlier this evening now swimming on the damp stone.

The look of mild disgust on Jeffrey's face had never really left, but it didn't hinder him from stepping forward to grab Jared's bicep, holding the boy in place while he was still retching, a few stray tears welling in the corners of his eyes.

“You done?” Jeffrey asked when Jared finally straightened up again.

“Yeah.”

Nodding, the driver pulled the boy away from the puddle of sick and to the glossy black car. “You're coming with us,” he explained briefly as he opened the door for the boy, handing him a clean, white tissue from the back pocket of his suit pants before pushing both boy and dog into the spacious cabin of the limousine.

The ride through the dark city was quiet and awkward. Crammed into the soft leather cushions, Jared made a point out of watching out of the window, not even once glancing towards his grumpy host. Harley's bulk was a warm and pleasant weight on his feet and his thick brownish-yellow coat kept brushing against Jared's dirt-stained shoes. The big dog was as nervous as his owner, but neither of them would dare to admit.

Being in a car with this young, rich brat was awkward to say the least and a little bit intimidating as well. But when the smoothly running car crossed the city limits, Jared started fidgeting in his seat nervously.

Sitting up from where he was slouched into the cushions, he watched New York's lights fly by. “Where are we going? The hospital is that way.”

Ackles continued to stare out the window, though Jared could see a muscle twitch in his jaw, giving the man a strained expression.

“Um, excuse me? Do I have to write it down for you?” Jared asked again, this time a little louder. Squaring his shoulders, he tried to bite back a moan at the pain exploding in the back of his neck. “Where are we going?”

Ackles shrugged. “Jeff's heading home, just like I told him,” he explained gruffly after a few beats of deafening silence and finally turned to face Jared. In the dim yellow light of the limousine he looked younger than earlier, somewhat softer.

“Home? And where's that exactly?” Jared exclaimed and was about to make a snarky remark when a sudden thought struck him. Slowly he grabbed Harley by his collar. “This isn't an abduction, right? Like you're not actually kidnapping me because you hit me and now planning to bury me in your ridiculously huge backyard, right?”

For a moment Jensen seemed amused, the corners of his mouth quirking with a suppressed smile, but when he spoke, his voice was completely even. “And what if that was the case, huh? You gonna fight me?”

“No, but Harley will,” Jared explained calmly, though his muscles went taut beneath the baggy clothing and heat gathered in the pit of his stomach.

“Are you talking about your little flea-carrier there? 'Cause he's nothing but a big coward, don't even try to fool me. I've seen enough guard dogs in my life to be able to tell the difference. Besides, Jeff carries a gun. Just so you know.”

Jared gasped at the notion and watched his knuckles turn white around Harley's collar. Shit, this was bad. Goddamn mess he got himself into. He was still thinking about a witty reply, anxiety forming a lump inside his throat, when Jensen beat him to it.

“Relax, Aladdin, it was just a joke. I just want to avoid... attention, and I have a first-aid kit at home that's just as good as the ones in the public hospitals.”

“Oh great, so you have an X-ray CT at home? 'Cause I'm pretty sure I have a freaking concussion.” Jared let out his breath in a rush, muscles going somewhat slack though he decided to stay alert. Just for good measure.

Waving his hand dismissively, Jensen returned his attention to the window. “You'll sleep it off, street-boy.” And with a grunt he settled back into the cushions again, eyes drawn to the lights floating by as they made their way up into the hills.

It turned out that staying alert was easier said than done and after only five minutes Jared felt himself tiring. Exhausted from the long day and every muscle hard as concrete, he felt his attention slip and when he heard gravel crunching under the tires a while later he had to fight himself back out of the sluggish haze of unconsciousness.

It was Ackles' voice that made him blink his eyes open, though he didn't remember having them closed in the first place.

“Wake up, Aladdin, time to get out of the car.”

Still a little dizzy from the nap and too exhausted to care, Jared let the words that had lain on his tongue since quite some time slip out. “You gonna be my Jasmine, buddy?”

Sighing exasperated, Jensen kicked the car door open before leaving, snarling. “Neither your princess nor your buddy.”

The walk up to the mansion was long and awkward, Jared staggering behind the two men, leaning heavily against Harley's warm body. After the short ride in the car's warmth and coziness, he felt even more exhausted, and with every step he took another muscle seemed to tear. Palms throbbing, head pounding and the coppery taste of blood and bile on his tongue, he felt miserable and muttered quietly to himself as he trailed behind Ackles and his servant.

The air in the hallway was warm when Jared stumbled inside, his vision graying out momentarily as he leaned heavily against a neatly whitewashed wall. The lights were dim, soft and yellow, and the air smelled like lemons and fresh, clean mint like faint traces of cleaning supplies. It was pleasant and Jared sucked in one hungry breath after another as if he was starving for it, his lungs on fire.

“Shall I accompany him to my quarters, Mr. Ackles?” he heard Jeffrey say somewhere to his right in an even voice.

Shaking his head, the young man next to him pointed at Jared and his quietly whining dog. “Kitchen; don't wanna risk my nosy sister getting up to take a look at the mutt.”

“Are you talking about me or Harley?” Jared slurred, only distantly aware of his surroundings. The pounding in his wrist had diminished, leaving only the aching sting of his palms and the urgent need to lay down and sleep off whatever was making his head spin.

He was about to make a step forward when he tripped over thin air, almost crashing face first into the wall he had been leaning against only seconds ago. A pair of warm, broad hands kept him from falling, dragged him away from the secure solidity of the cool walls and into the bright, white lights of a luxurious kitchen.

Jared groaned. “No lights please,” he murmured mostly to himself and almost sobbed in relief when someone dimmed the blinding overheads. He was ushered into a corner and sat down on a bar stool, the cushion soft and the polished wood of the backrest smooth against his fingers as he scrambled for something to hold on to. The world was still spinning in front of his eyes, but with his butt seated and the blood circulating somewhat more regularly again, Jared felt a little better and less like an invalid.

“Would you go and grab the first-aid kit from the bathroom, Jeff? I'm gonna stay here with our little princess and make sure she doesn't pass out on us,” Ackles' voice oozed through the sluggish haze that was currently clouding Jared's brain.

“What about the dog? Your mother won't be happy to hear about that flea-infested beast lingering inside her new kitchen,” Jeffrey replied when he was halfway through the door.

The young man shrugged. “Then she better not find out about it, am I right?”

Nodding, Jeff vanished through a plain white door, leaving Jared to the mercy of his ungracious host.

“So what's your name?” Ackles asked into the silence as he wandered off to the bar, pouring himself a generous amount of brandy. He sounded almost bored and through his haze Jared noted a tiny slur, something close to a thick, rich accent.

“What's it to you?” Jared groaned and placed his head on the cool top of the bar.

Ackles shrugged. “Nothing, I just wanna know, is all.”

“So you can put it on the tombstone once you've buried me, right?”

“Yeah, totally. That's exactly what I was aiming for. Are you always this paranoid or is it a more recent development?” Jensen growled as he slammed a bottle of water on the tabletop next to Jared, startling the dozing boy.

Grunting and sighing, Jared managed to sit up in an attempt to level his gaze at his host. “Only recently. Showed up for the first time when I got hit by a car in the middle of the night and picked up afterwards like a ragdoll by a prissy, white, rich boy and his uptight servant. And it's Jared.”

“And here I am, thinking that I might have to spend the night browsing the local animal shelters in order to get to know your name. Or keep calling you Aladdin.”

Jared didn't even bother to give a proper reply and was relieved when Jeff tiptoed in through the door a few seconds later. He was carrying a first-aid kit and several towels were squeezed in the space between his arms and ribs.

“You can go to bed, Mr. Ackles, I'll take it from here. I'll see to the boy's wound and drive him back into the city afterward. He's my responsibility after all.”

Flopping down at the kitchen table with the neatly polished marble top, Jensen shook his head. “No, 's okay, Jeff. I'll stay to make sure that we didn't accidentally let a rabid dog into our house, right Jared?”

Jared ground out a low growl and shrunk back into the stool as soon as the sturdy servant approached him. The room fell into an uncomfortable silence.

Putting some disinfectant on a bandage first, Jeffrey started to dab the blood on Jared's temple away. He somehow managed to deliberately ignore the boy's whined protest as he cleaned the wound, rubbing and patting until all of the crusted blood was soaked into the bandage and the clinical white was stained with crimson and rusty brown.

Jared winced at every touch and soon his head felt like it was on fire. The wound, originally not that big and certainly not severe, was aching like someone had pushed a smoldering spear through his skull, and though Jeff did his best, he was clumsy and unpracticed in patching someone up. His touches were rough and erratic and he kept cursing under his breath whenever he pressed against the gaping wound, drawing more blood and causing Jared to cringe away from the pain.

It got to a point when Jared thought he was going to either pass out or be sick again, his vision swimming in front of his half-lidded eyes and tears streaming unchecked down his face. He could barely hold himself upright anymore and when Ackles spoke from where he was still seated at the kitchen table his voice was cushioned, like he was talking through a thick, heavy layer of cottony fog.

“If you keep going, you're going to kill him, Jeff,” he said quietly, getting up. “He's white as a sheet and looks like he's seen a ghost.”

Grunting, Jeff stepped back as both men inspected the driver's poor work on Jared's temple wound. He had managed to sling a bandage around the boy's shaggy, greasy hair and it looked tight, almost good. But the white cotton was soaked with red, and brown disinfectant paste was leaking through the fabric, caking the side of Jared's face.

“I think I'll take it from here, thank you,” Ackles continued and dragged another bar stool to where Jared was slumped heavily in his seat. The boy didn't even try to hide his tears and biting his lip as he watched Jensen sit down.

Jeff did protest for a few seconds, but was gruffly brushed off by Ackles' resolute voice. “Go and see to the dogs, please. I bet they're going nuts with the smell of this one on the property,” the young man instructed, nudging Harley with his foot and drawing the dog's attention.

“But Mr. Ackles—“

“Make sure they get an extra treat and tell the guards at the front gate to take them the long route in the morning. And Jeffrey? That's an order.”

For a split second Jeff looked like he was going to argue, but he only nodded before disappearing through the same door as earlier with a curt bow.

Silence fell to the point of thrilling awkwardness and Jared felt tension curl inside his stomach, like a spring ready to break loose at any second. With his head still throbbing and the raw skin of his palms stinging like a bitch, he tried not to wince when the man in front of him gathered a few supplies in his hands before bringing the bottle of disinfectant within reach.

“'S gonna hurt a bit, try not to pass out on me, will you?” Ackles mumbled, slathering a fresh bandage with the sharp smelling liquid.

Jared snorted out a “please,” and was ready to throw up on the neatly cleaned kitchen floor only seconds later when Jensen clasped his fingers firmly around Jared's right wrist before pressing the soaked cloth against his scraped palm. Whimpering, the boy tried to pull his injured hand out of reach and away from the stinging, white-hot pain, but Ackles' grip was strong and he held the trembling hand in place stoically.

“Not so smart-mouthed now, are you?” he quipped as he started to carefully dab around the wound, removing gravel and dirt from the raw flesh. Fresh blood welled out from the torn skin and Jared felt nauseous, his senses dimmed by the sharp scent of disinfectant and the coppery taste of blood.

Groaning, he held on to the edge of the table top while he let his host clean first one, then the other hand. The man wasn't exactly gentle, but he did a good job and his movements were calm and skilled. He didn't seem to mind the stench coming from Jared's clothing, didn't comment on the holes in his clothes or his greasy hair poking out from under the dirty beanie. He just kept on working, quickly and effectively: cleaning the wounds, applying cream, patching up the red and raw palms, wrapping them in bandages, all the while humming through his work.

Jared tried to follow his surprisingly expert movements, but soon got dizzy and decided to inspect his host instead. Close up, he could see that Ackles' slightly tanned skin was dusted with freckles, a kiss of honey and gold over the bridge of his nose. His mossy-green eyes were framed by thick, blond lashes like a fan of wheat and spun gold, and the slight stubble along his chiseled jawline appeared almost ginger in the dim light. Having gotten rid of his suit jacket earlier, only the crisp white of a smooth button-down clung to the man's broad shoulders, hugging his sturdy form and leaving nothing to Jared's imagination. That Ackles-guy might have been a rich, spoiled kid with too much time on his hands and questionable taste in women, but he was gorgeous by any meaning of the word. His expensive cologne smelled like heaven to Jared: like pine and fresh air mixed with faint traces of soap and clean sweat.

“Hey, I told you not to pass out, princess,” Ackles barked as soon as he was finished patching Jared up. Nudging the boy in the seat with his elbow, he brought Jared back from his musings, and though his eyelids seemed to weigh a thousand tons, Jared managed to look up.

“Whatcha want, dude?” he slurred, swaying lightly in his stool. With the expert touch of his host's nimble fingers replaced by the cool pressure of the clean bandages, the aching pain inside his palms had been reduced to a dull pounding. Jared felt lightheaded, probably from inhaling the disinfectant.

Ackles got up with a sigh. “You're a horrible homeless person, did you know that? Aren't you guys supposed to be tough? I mean there's something like a pecking order in your circles, right?”

“You're a mean, rude person, Ackles,” Jared replied through the thick, cottony fog inside his skull and after having struggled for so long he finally gave in to the heavy blankness. With a sigh he let go and the shiny white of the tiles rapidly coming closer was the last thing he saw before he fell into merciful darkness.

Jensen was busy scrubbing his fingers in the kitchen sink when he heard a loud thud instead of an actual reply from his guest, followed by a quiet whimper. Spinning on his heels, he let out a groan of annoyance as he stared down at the passed-out stranger on his mother's kitchen floor. How could things gotten out of hand so easily?


	2. Chapter 2

Jared woke up with a pounding inside his head and a taste on his tongue so disgusting it made him gag. Maybe something had crawled down his throat and died somewhere behind his lungs. Wrapped in a foreign blanket and bedded down on an unfamiliar sofa, he felt out of place and the dull pain on his temple didn't do anything to make it better. His hands stung like someone had spiked them with needles and he moaned at the feeling of pinpricks of pains jolting through his nerves, setting fire to his thickly flowing blood and making him choke around a mouthful of spit and the coppery taste of blood.

“Harley?” Jared whined as soon as he had managed to straighten up somewhat, eyes squinted against the dim light of the pale morning.

There was some shuffling by his feet and seconds later, Jared felt the heavy head of his Ridgeback-mix drop into his lap. The dog yipped softly as soon as he felt Jared's fingers scratching behind his ears, his cropped coat making a raspy sound in eerie silence of the unfamiliar room.

The walls were too white to belong to Stephen's sleazy apartment; that much was clear. Sofa and blanket were far too comfortable and clean to be of the countless shelters Jared had stayed in throughout the past years. The air was fresh and without the hint of smoke and sweat. There was coffee table in front of the couch and a row of windows above him, fuzzy morning light streaming through them. The carpet on the floor was thick and luxurious and—where the fuck was he? He was dimly aware of walking away from the animal shelter, but everything afterward was a blur.

That was when Jared noticed it: the absolute silence. There were no voices ringing through the walls, no sound of cars snaking through crowded streets. The air was still, not stirred by movement or the never-sleeping hum of the city, and the quiet became increasingly disturbing the longer Jared listened.

“Harley, buddy, where the fuck are we?” Jared rasped.

The yellow dog whined in response and pushed his damp muzzle into the cup of Jared's hand before licking a hot, wet stripe up across the neatly wrapped bandages.

Jared blinked. Right, the accident. Someone had hit him with a car. A guy. They had taken him up here, into the hills, away from the city. Had patched him up real good. Jared remembered dimly that he had been talking to the guy— _Jensen_ —before falling into darkness. After that he drew a blank. He had no idea where he exactly was and that nagging feeling of being imprisoned nestled in the pit of his churning stomach. Maybe they had kidnapped him after all.

Struggling out of the blanket, Jared managed to get up, and though idea of walking made his stomach plummet unpleasantly, he felt pretty accomplished after he had struggled to his feet. With that feeling blooming inside his chest he started to check his pockets. It had become a middling routine, scanning his belongings after waking up.

First his wallet, lacking money but being filled with a few precious memories. Hands diving deeper, he fumbled for his keys, a letter from his sister, Harley's dog tags and papers. His beanie was placed neatly on the coffee table, along with his flannel. Jared rummaged in the depths of his pockets for a last piece of chewing gum and found the photo of him and Sadie.

Everything was still there, still in place, and he let out a shuddering breath. For a man like Jared, his few belongings were everything: a whole universe hidden beneath a few layers of threadbare fabric and in between the loose seams of stiff denim.

Footsteps outside the door drew Jared's attention and being suddenly very alert he jerked around. He winced at the blinding pain that exploded at the base of his skull and managed to snatch his hat from the table before the door was flung open with a crash.

“Ah, I see our patient is awake,” Jeffrey said as he strode in with wide steps, steep crease between his eyebrows and trademark frown in place. He looked weary, the bags beneath his eyes dark and heavy, and his suit was rumpled. As was his mood.

“Where the everloving fuck am I?” Jared demanded to know, his swollen tongue tripping over the words as they hastily tumbled out of his mouth.

Jeffrey's scowl became if possible even deeper and with a slow shake of his head he dropped a sandwich wrapped in plastic foil and a pair of clean sweatpants on the sofa's backrest. “You're exactly where I put you roughly seven hours ago, young man. And you should watch your mouth; you're not on the streets anymore.”

“Fuck you, man,” Jared spat, suddenly agitated. What did it matter where he was? He was trash to these people anyway. “I wanna go home. Someone bring me back to the city.”

Jeffrey didn't even blink at the harsh words, just squeezed his eyes shut for a moment in an attempt to regain his temper. “Of course, but first you should eat. And have a shower. Mr. Ackles generously allowed you to use the guest bathroom to get rid of—“ Jeff made a brief pause, gesturing vaguely towards Jared's tall form— “this.”

For a moment, Jared was inclined to give in to the heavenly idea of taking a long, hot shower—a real one, with soap and a steady spray, with warm and clean water. But fueled by the damaged pride and the helplessness he had woken up with, his rage prevailed over common sense. Shrugging, he snorted out a brittle, humorless bark.

“ _Mr. Ackles_ ,” he spat with a harsh emphasis on the name, “can take his sandwich and his shower and shove 'em up his pretentious ass. Hell, he can take the pants, too for all I care. I'm done.”

And with that Jared made a swift step around Jeffrey's bulky form and was out of the tall man's reach within the blink of an eye. Ignoring his spinning vision and the wave of nausea washing over him, he pulled Harley along by the thick leather collar as he stormed down a white hallway, not knowing where he was heading and not caring; all he wanted was to get out of there. Out and away as far as possible so he could forget about the accident and the pain and the humiliation and bottle-green eyes under a fan of golden lashes.

But at the end of the hallway waited another one, and it was just as white and plain and infuriating in its perfection as the one before, taunting Jared.

“What the shit?” he cursed as he spun in a circle, eyes squinted against the dull rattling behind his forehead. He was about to head back in the direction he had come from, but Harley seemed to have other plans, and with a firm tug on the collar he led Jared down the left corridor and right to a door. Relief flooded the boy's system as he turned the knob to find the door unlocked, and with his jaw clenched and still slightly dizzy from standing and walking, he staggered out into the pale sunshine of a crisp winter morning.

The way across the lawn and down to the heavily guarded gateway was longer than Jared remembered from last night and he flinched at the piercing gazes of the security guards as he passed them. But none of them seemed to have been instructed to hold him back, and after a few more steps, Jared crossed the property line, pulling the yipping Harley along.

He didn't look back, and even when he reached the foot of the hill the pretentious mansion was built on to loom over the city, Jared didn't spare so much as a glance over his shoulder. He kept his eyes to the tips of his old, beat-up sneakers.

When Jared crossed the city limits almost one hour later, he was drenched in sweat. The wound on his temple stinging painfully and tongue glued to the roof of his dry mouth, he felt like someone had smacked him right about the head with a log. Somewhere along the way, Jared had gotten rid of the bandages on his hands and the stinging pain had returned to his palms. Even breathing seemed to become an issue in the frigid cold. Harley was panting right beside him, saliva dribbling out of his big muzzle and his ears pressed flat against his head. The dog had stopped chasing snowflakes half an hour ago and only whined quietly in response when Jared murmured “'S all right buddy, we're almost there.”

 ♦ 

Knowing that Stephen wouldn't be home to house Jared for at least a few hours, Jared made a beeline to the shelter, only stopping to get some dog food with the last five bucks he owned. Harley always came first.

The shelter was pretty much deserted this time of the week. Not many people came to look for a new pet on a Sunday and Genevieve was the only one working in the kennels when Jared entered the flat building through the back entrance.

“Heya Jay, nice to see you,” she greeted cheerfully, waving curtly before she continued to scoop up dog shit. She was a smart young woman, a professional dog trainer, with doe like eyes and glossy, brown hair. She didn't mind Jared's presence while she was working with the pups and was not even half as nosy as Julie was. Today, Jared was most grateful for Gen's quiet, discreet presence and shooting her a small smile, he pulled the beanie a little further over the bandage around his head.

“Hey beautiful. Dani in the office?” he asked, stalking towards the bathroom.

“Ah yes, she's busy negotiating the new terms for renting the property next to ours. I wouldn't get in her way right now if I were you,” Gen replied before looking up with her brows knitted together in concern. “You look like the literal walking dead, Jared. How long have you been out there?”

Shrugging, Jared stepped closer to pat the Siberian Husky's head through the kennel's iron bars. “Long enough.”

“Jeez, I can see that smartypants. Your lips are frozen blue and you're pale as a sheet.” Genevieve replied with a snort. “Go have a shower, you loser. See you for a coffee later?”

“Sure,” Jared agreed before unclasping Harley's leash. Heading for the bathroom and closing the door firmly shut, he left the constant whining and barking of the kennel dogs behind and with a quiet sigh and his eyes squeezed shut he sunk against the wood.

After a quick shower under a hardly-warm spray, Jared felt more human. The scraped skin on his palms stung with the water and soap, but at least he was warm again when he slipped into his clothes. The bandage around his head was soaked but he decided to keep it on a while longer. His decision, however, sparked a tiny uproar when he entered the office minutes later, greeting his co-workers with a grin. 

“Jared, what the fuck? What happened to your head?” Danneel asked from where she sat behind her desk, sipping coffee and chatting with Genevieve and Katie. 

“Dude, your palms look like shit, too.” Katie agreed gruffly, brows furrowed as she eyed the raw skin. 

Jared shrugged. “I kinda sorta had an accident last night,” he explained as he flopped down on the only remaining seat next to Gen on the sofa. 

“An accident? A real one? I mean, did you go to a hospital?” 

“Nah, it was fine. Some dude ran me over with his fancy-ass car and they brought me up to the hills. Patched me up real good. It's fine,” 

Danneel's gaze was scrutinizing, her hands flailing wide. “They _what_? Jared, honey, this is not fine at all. This could be serious. What if you have a concussion? Or internal bleeding?”

“Yeah and who was that guy anyway, huh?” Katie spat and stood to inspect the pounding bump on Jared's temple. She was a vet nurse and Jared figured it couldn't hurt to let her take a look. 

So he just kept on talking while the blond woman checked the wound with delicate fingers. “His name is Jensen Ackles and apparently he's a big fucking deal. I don't even–“

“Wait, did you just say Jensen Ackles?” Genevieve cut in, clutching Jared's arm hard. “The CEO of _Ackles Media and Associates_?”

Jared shrugged again, causing Katie to slap his shoulder. “Stay still,” she hissed before Danneel jumped in, voice agitated and full of excitement. 

“Are you sure, Jared? Jensen Ackles, _the_ Jensen Ackles? The most wanted bachelor in all of New York City? I mean it could easily be a mistake, right? Maybe he just looked like him?” 

Jared wasn't in the mood to gossip so he just said “Could be,” and nervously waited for Katie to be done with her inspection. Meanwhile Danneel was busy rummaging through the drawers of her desk until she found what she was looking for with a yip. Handing Jared a glossy magazine, she pointed at the cover photo. It showed a man in a suit, hair brown and slicked back. The grin he was wearing didn't reach his green eyes and someone had edited out the dust of freckles from the bridge of his nose. He looked stiff, uncomfortable and angry. 

“That him?” 

Jared nodded. “Yeah, definitely.” 

Genevieve gasped. “You got run over by Jensen Ackles, hun. Probably the second richest guy in New York. Do you know what that means?” 

“You can sue that smug smile right off his pretty face,” Katie chimed in as she finished her work, sitting down again and grabbing her mug. 

Danneel was immediately all over that plan. “Damn right, and you should do it, Jared. I mean he ran you over and didn't even bother to take you to a hospital—“

“I don't wanna sue anyone, girls, I really don't. Besides he patched me up and let me sleep in his house outside the city for the night.”

“He _what_?” all three women exclaimed in unison, mouths hanging open. 

Jared shrugged. “Yeah, I kinda fell asleep in his kitchen and he let me and Harley stay over night. 'S no biggie, though.”

Danneel was the first to find her tongue again. “But don't you at least wanna... you know, ask for a little something in return?”

“What for, Dani? His driver fucked up, they fixed it again, we're done. And frankly he's an asshole and I'm happy if I don't have to see him again any time soon, thank you very much,” Jared replied, sighing. “And now gimme a goddamn pain killer and let me get to work, you guys, I'm not getting paid to gossip.” 

Handing Jared a pain pill out of her desk drawer, Danneel stood with a smile. “All right ladies, you heard the puppy. Everyone go get some shit done. And Jared?” 

“Huh?”

“Take it easy today, will ya? It's not helping anyone if you overdo things.” 

 ♦ 

One and a half weeks later and the sky was still covered in soft, cottony clouds, promising more snow for the following week. The temperatures had dropped another few degrees and the current breeze was stiff and sharp, chasing a frigid wall of ice crystals through the streets.

The two layers of Jared's worn-thin shirts and the threadbare sweater he'd pulled on top were doing very little to protect him from the biting frost and with a quiet sigh he pushed his face into the collar of his shirts, hands buried in the pockets of his jeans. Winter had come too soon, too quickly for Jared to catch up with the sudden drop in temperature and now he was facing the serious consequences of his flippancy.

Grateful that he had left Harley at the shelter, Jared trudged through the dirty slush the snow on the sidewalk had turned to over the course of the day. The horizon was already darkening with the upcoming night, but Jared had promised to check on the water bowls Danneel had them set out on cold days. The shelter workers took turns replacing the ice with fresh, warm water and today Julie had returned from doing groceries with an extra bag of kibble, the brown, chewy food now bouncing in Jared's backpack with every step he took. There were too many stray dogs in the area to feed them all up with what little Jared could carry, but it was enough to keep the poor, skinny pups alive and bring them through the frigid winter.

It took Jared longer than he had initially expected to reach the city limits and he was rather surprised to find himself drenched in tacky sweat when he set the backpack down next to the small station. He was still dealing with the aftermath of getting hit by the car and his body hadn't fully recovered yet. Begrudgingly, he had gotten used to his vision graying out whenever he jerked around mindlessly and there was a dull pain tingling in the tip of his spine all times of the day. His back had started to ache twenty-four hours after the crash and hadn't stopped. His scraped palms were itchy, his temple bruised and still swollen and he easily became out of breath. Good thing Stephen had supplied him with a generous amount of Advil the evening after the accident and they took enough edge off the pain to allow Jared to work and walk freely like he was used to.

Jared went to work quickly and efficiently. He removed the thick crust of ice from the bowls before filling them with fresh, bottled water he pulled from his backpack. Cleaning the area of dog poop and flattening the snow around the station with his feet came first before he grabbed the three plastic bags.

A bunch of stray mutts had watched Jared from afar since he had arrived a few minutes ago, lurking in the shadows, following his every move with curious, wary eyes. Now, at the sound of food bags being ripped open, three of them approached Jared directly. Mouths hanging open and tails wagging in excitement, they came closer and yipped happily as soon as the man started emptying the bags in the powdery snow.

“There you go,” Jared mumbled as a small terrier mix dove face first into the pile of kibble. “You better take care of that hole in your stomach, right? But be a good boy and share some with your friends; they look like they need some, too.”

The small dog didn't even bother to perk up at Jared's words for he was too busy stuffing his face with the dog chow. But his enthusiasm seemed to be contagious and not a minute later two large German Shepherd mixes joined the small dog, eating with more reservation but the same starved expressions on their fuzzy faces. With a sad smile, Jared continued to spread the food in small piles all over the area and when he returned to the station the place was swarming with cadaverously skinny bodies, moving around in the trampled snow and inhaling the kibble with a kind of despair that made Jared's heart stutter.

He decided to stay a little while longer to watch the dogs shuffle around. He rarely ever got to take a good, long look at the stray mutts. There was something to their presence, something eerie and haunting, lacking poetry but not dignity. Jared was drawn to the homeless ones, how they moved together, united in their fate, always running on the edge of hopelessness. Skinny and flea-infested as they were, poor and born into a world where they were pushed around and chased away by the ones who should have loved them.

“These yours, kiddo?” A gruff voice asked out of a sudden and Jared jumped in surprise. Spinning on his heels, he caught a glimpse of neatly tied shoes in the dirty snow and a long, thick coat over crisp, gray suit pants.

“Ackles?”

“In the flesh,” the man in the expensive clothes replied with a smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle with amusement. “And it's Jensen, please. Surprised to see me?”

Gaping, Jared managed a small nod. He didn't know what to make of the sudden appearance of the rich kid, and not even the fact that Jensen seemed to have come alone took the edge off the boy's wariness. “Whadda ya want?”

“Whoa there, easy buddy,” Jensen replied as he kept watching the feeding dogs, their muzzles digging into the snowy ground to get every last bit of chow. “I came to bring you this.”

Pulling a bundle out of the deep pockets of his coat, Jensen made another step to approach Jared before handing him the piece of cloth.

“My flannel?”

“Well duh, genius. You left it on the coffee table in my guest room and since the weather has become rather unpleasant I figured you could use an extra layer,” Jensen said, the look of genuine amusement deepening on his features as he watched the puzzled look on Jared's face.

Jared took a moment to unroll the flannel. It was cleaner that it had been in weeks and the fabric felt soft and fluffy, yielding to Jared's touch as he clutched it. “Thanks... I guess.”

“Yeah, don't mention it. 'S not a biggie,” Jensen replied airily, “Also you made a dent in my new car, just fyi.”

Jared arched a brow. “Is it bad?”

“Yeah, right next to the headlight. Was a hell of a hassle to get it all smooth again.”

“Good,” Jared retorted, smiling smugly to himself. “I like to do a proper job.”

To his surprise, Jensen started laughing at that, a full-body burst with his head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut. Jared couldn't help but think how unlike the boss of a huge company he looked right then, with his expensive leather shoes covered in slush and his face flushed pink from the cold.

“That's what I thought,” Jensen muttered before clearing his throat, his face turning serious again. “So, how's the head?”

Picking his backpack out of the snow and stuffing the flannel inside, Jared shrugged. “I'm fine; 's nothing. I've had worse.”

Jensen took a deep breath, but seemed to dismiss his thoughts on that as he continued to talk. “After your little stunt last week I tried to find you. Took me quite some time; your friends aren't very chatty.”

“Lessons learned hard on the streets, buddy,” Jared scoffed. His bright mood was suddenly gone.

“Guess so. But with a wound like that you shouldn't walk around in the cold. Hit your head pretty hard.”

The laugh Jared spat out was brittle and bitter. “Yeah? And what would you suggest? Hiring a shiny car to drive my pretty ass around the city? Newsflash, rich kid; not everyone's sponsored by daddy in this world.”

For a split second Jensen's face went blank, his eyes bright and vivid in the last light of the day and his mouth going slack. But the expression was gone before Jared could even name it and Jensen returned to his usual, smooth self.

“No need to be jealous, honey. Life has been good to me; so what? Get over it.”

Jared snorted at that and glanced over his shoulder one last time to make sure the dogs were taken care of before he started to trudge off. He didn't even bother to say goodbye and was rather surprised to feel the touch of a big, warm hand on his shoulder after only a few steps.

“Jared, wait,” Jensen mumbled as he made Jared stop in his tracks. His voice sounded so much different now, no longer smug and brazen, but small and raw in his throat. It made Jared's stomach flip and with his heart racing he turned around.

“What do you want?”

“I, um, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be a jerk. Occupational hazard; comes with the job I guess,” Jensen replied with a small smile. He paused briefly for Jared to reply, but the boy kept silent and only motioned for Jensen to continue.

“Yeah, as I was saying, you shouldn't walk around in the cold injured like that. It's dangerous and I... well, anyway. I wrote down a few numbers and the address of my apartment in the city, just in case you, uh, need someone to pick up your dead body.”

Fumbling a neatly folded piece of paper out of his coat's pockets, Jensen let go of Jared's shoulder and the boy almost whined at the sudden loss of warmth. Jensen's hand had felt fantastic, warm and heavy on his shoulder, just the right amount of pressure to loosen the knotted and frozen-stiff muscles in his back. But the moment couldn't last forever and Jared would have been a fool to trust a rich, spoiled brat.

Huffing out a mirthless laugh, he grabbed the note Jensen was sticking into his face. “You're my knight in shining armor,” he replied sardonically before breathing a short “goodbye” and left, this time for good.


	3. Chapter 3

After his short encounter with Jensen, Jared's life went on as normal, and for two weeks nothing unusual happened. The winter held New York in its icy grip and snow piled up on the roofs of the big, shiny skyscrapers. Every morning the roads were glazed over, and icicles had already done severe damage to the city's precious skyline.

The bump on Jared's temple had started to shrink a week ago and he didn't wake up feeling nauseous anymore. His palms were covered in fresh, rosy skin and except from the biting cold that besieged New York, life was good.

Monday mornings were always busy in the city and today wasn't going to be any different. Jared was on his way to the shelter to take the first shift and it was still early. A fiery dusk was tingeing the horizon in gunmetal gray and powder blue, and for once the streets didn't bustle with traffic, but lay silent and glazed over instead. The air smelled like snow and take-out food and Jared had to press a fist into the hollow of his empty stomach when it growled demandingly at the mouth-watering scent.

Harley, still half asleep and upset about their early departure from Stephen's sofa, was trotting next to Jared on the sidewalk, eyes half-lidded and tail wagging slowly. Jared was about to ruffle the fur on the dog's head, when the sound of screeching tires tore through the silence.

Everything happened too fast. Headlights flickered over Jared's face, blinding him momentarily, and Harley leaped forward. Someone honked, someone else yelled, gears ground to Jared's left, and then there was a sudden pull on the leather leash that was still securely wrapped around Jared's wrist. It jerked him around like a ragdoll and made the joints of his shoulders pop as he tried to hold on. But the asphalt under his feet was slippery and treacherous and he was rapidly yanked forward towards a shadow on the ground, the still figure surrounded by the coppery scent of blood. Blood, fresh and red. Blood on the ground. Not Jared's, but Harley's.

Jared's scream was nothing but pure agony as he fell to his knees next to the whimpering dog, his cheeks burning with tears. “Harley, are you okay?” he rasped as his hands flew over the quivering body to check the damage. “It's all right, buddy, I'm gonna make it okay again. You hear me?”

Teared flesh on Harley's side and what looked like a broken front paw made the dog howl in pain when Jared carefully traced down his limbs.

“It's gonna be okay, I promise. I'll patch you up.”

A second scream burst from the dog's bleeding muzzle when Jared's shaking fingers checked the probably sprained hind leg and multiple bruises down Harley's trembling flank; but it had to be done despite the wet, hot tears and the overwhelming pain.

Someone was talking to Jared, but he didn't listen to them, not even when they touched his shoulder with a gloved hand. His whole world had narrowed down to the crushed body of his best friend on the asphalt and he knew Harley's convulsive screams would haunt him in his dreams for the rest of his life.

Taking the dog's head between his hands and placing it carefully in his lap, Jared bent down to curl around the quivering body, one hand staunching the relentless flow of blood on Harley's flank.

“Shhh, shhhh, it's okay, buddy. I'm here,” he chanted over and over again. “I'm not gonna go leave you; we're gonna make you okay again.”

Harley replied with a soft whine, pressing his bleeding nose against Jared's cheek until the skin was drenched in hot, red blood. And while his body was still against the dog, Jared's mind was running. There was no such thing as an ambulance for pets. He had no phone. The jerk who hit Harley probably had one. There was a veterinary clinic two blocks away from here. They only took cash.

“Dude, you gotta get off the street,” someone said eventually and it took everything for Jared to keep himself from lunging for the person's throat.

Uncurling himself somewhat from around Harley's body, he faced the nervous figure with a growl. “You fucking piece of trash hit my dog with your car,” he yelled accusingly, pointing a blood-stained finger at the man in suit and coat. “Now do something about it. Help us!”

The man went pale at that, but he nodded and for the first time in minutes it seemed Jared could breathe freely again.

 ♦ 

Jared didn't know how they managed to pick up Harley without breaking his shattered body. He had no memory of the ride to the hospital either, only remembered the shallow breathing of his best friend, the small, desperate noises and the waves of blood welling from his terrible wounds and pooling under Jared's hands.

But eventually they made it into the brightly lit entrance area of the clinic and Harley was pulled from Jared's grip by expert hands. The sharp smell of disinfectant was washed away by the stench of blood and burned rubber that clung to the dirty, yellow fur and Jared felt bile rising in his throat.

They put Harley on a cart with clean, fresh sheets and two nurses in dusky pink shirts pressed bandages against the bleeding wounds. A doctor with dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes put a needle into Harley's external jugular vein to grant immediate access to his circular flow and provide him with much needed liquids and painkillers.

“Prepare the X-ray. We need to make sure there are no internal ruptures and liver and lungs are unharmed before we attempt surgery. Midriff is still intact, windpipe free,” the tall doctor spoke calmly before he started to carefully check the dog's vital functions.

Pressing two fingers against the femoral artery on Harley's thigh, he took his pulse, then turned to the blood-covered muzzle to pull one lip up. He checked the color of Harley's gums and by pressing a thumb against the slick flesh and counting the seconds it needed to turn from white to pink again, he estimated the general state of the dog's circular flow. He gently patted Harley's head and talked to him in a low, quiet voice while the nurses were still busy staunching the blood that bubbled up from where the skin was torn open across the dog's ribs.

“Pulse at one hundred-twenty, temperature falling,” the veterinarian said after finishing his once-over and he didn't waste another second, jogging towards the locker rooms in long strides to get into clothing appropriate for performing surgery.

The doctor seemed competent, sure and steady in his movements and yet Jared was on the verge of shattering into a million pieces. He yelled when they tried to wheel Harley away and two nurses had to keep him upright when he was dragged into the waiting area where he slumped down on a plastic chair. Someone patted his back, then the vet was back with the X-rays and Jared pushed to his feet again.

“Mr.—“

“Jared.”

“Mr. Jared, I'm Dr. Collins. The patient is your dog I take it?”

Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Jared nodded. “Yeah, yes. His name is Harley.”

“Well, Harley's left front paw is broken. His carpal bones are split in a clean cut and his wrist is crushed. The cut on his flank is pretty serious. We don't know the exact tissue damage yet, but he needs surgery. And he needs it _now_.”

“ I understand.”

“His ribs are sprained but nothing is broken from what we could see on the X-rays. He was lucky neither his lungs nor his midriff took any severe damage. He has lost a lot of blood, even for a big guy like him. There's always a risk when we do surgery, especially with the heavy breeds and he's in pretty bad condition.”

Rubbing a new wash of tears from his blood-stained cheeks, Jared managed a nod to convey his understanding.

“How old is Harley?”

“Six years, sir.”

Dr. Collins took a few seconds to contemplate, then nodded. “All right, I think we can take the risk. He's a tough dog, right? He'll make it.”

Relief flooded Jared veins and he was about to let out a shaky breath, when the doctor continued. “I'll send Rachel with the paper work you can fill out with your personal information. We only accept cash—“

The doctor stopped short at the look on Jared's face, both of them already knowing what was about to come.

“You don't have the money, do you?”

Jared shook his head, knees buckling as he crashed back into the cheap plastic chair. Black despair rolled over him in waves that left him shaking and with a quiet sob he buried his face in his hands.

Dr. Collins shifted uneasily from one foot to another. “Look, I'm sorry, I really am. But I can't help your dog if you're unable to pay. It's these stupid rules, I—“

“Maybe I can work my debt off?” Jared suggested, his voice panic-stricken and laced with thick tears. “I'm good with animals; I work at the shelter downtown.” He didn't watch Dr. Collins shake his head ; he already knew the answer. The clinic's rules were strict. They were the law. And no one would break the law for a dirty street-boy and his filthy dog.

“I'm so sorry, young man. I wish there was something I could do, but no payment means no service. That's the clinic's policy.”

Looking up from where he had been staring at his knees, Jared bit back another sob. “And whatcha gonna do now, huh? You can't... c-can't let him die. It's a dog, a living being. It's m-my Harley,”

The doctor squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, swallowing thickly before speaking again. “If I lift one finger without having confirmed you're able to pay first, it's gonna cost me my job. I could even lose my license, kid. There's nothing I can do for your dog.”

Jared only nodded in response. _Nothing_. That meant Harley's death sentence, meant that his best friend since Jared had picked him up as a pup in that sleazy shelter six years ago would die tonight. He would die on the cold concrete of a sidewalk, bleeding out like he was nothing but meat and bones instead of a friend. A companion, a home.

“I'll let the nurse give him enough painkillers so he can go in peace,” Dr. Collins said as he wiped the corners of his eyes. He was about to leave Jared to himself and his grief, when a yell stopped him in his tracks.

“Wait, stop!” Jared was suddenly up and on his feet again, eyes wide and bright. The thought had him struck like lightning and now he was digging in his pockets furiously, fumbling for a neatly folded piece of paper.

A small sob escaped his throat as he pulled out the note. “I need a phone, right now.”

Staring at a bunch of numbers, Jared dialed with shaky fingers. The chances that Jensen would listen to him were next to nothing, but Jared had to try. For Harley's sake he had to try. Even if that would mean lifelong employment in Mr. Rich Kid's prissy mansion.

“Jensen? It's Jared, I—“

“What the fuck man, it's like ass o'clock in the morning. Why are you—wait, are you crying?”

Snuffling quietly, Jared nodded before he realized that Jensen couldn't see him. “Yeah, I... I need your help.”

There was some rustling of sheets on the other end of the line and Jensen's voice became clearer when he spoke again. “What's going on, Jared? Why are you crying?”

Jared had sworn to himself that he would keep it together—wouldn't cry, only beg. But at the sound of actual concern in Jensen's gruff, sleep-heavy voice made him forget every promise he'd made and with a sob he let the tears roll.

“I-It's Harley, my dog; we had an accident. Some jerk crashed into us. Harley—he's dying, Jensen, and they won't help. No one will help 'cause I'm a poor fuck and c-can't afford surgery.”

Growling low in his throat, Jensen shifted some more. “Jared, where are you?”

“At the Sunnyside East Clinic in Queens. We brought Harley here 'cause it was so close. I-I thought it was a good idea, I wanted to save him. I promised him, Jensen. I promised H-Harley that I would make it okay again, I promised—“

“Jared, is there a doctor somewhere around you? Someone who's in charge of this clinic?“

Jared sniffled, rubbing snot and tears away with his sleeve. “Yeah, Dr. Collins.”

“Great. Would you please hand me over to him? I want to have a word with him. Oh and Jared? Stop crying, I'm on my way.”

Jared couldn't even manage to hold back his outbursts of emotion anymore, for his body had stopped taking orders minutes ago. Suddenly exhausted from crying and shaking, he gave a weak nod and a small, “Yeah, thanks Jensen,” before handing the phone to the concerned-looking veterinarian.

Jared didn't understand what Jensen said to Dr. Collins, but the man with the dark hair and the piercing blue eyes nodded a few times sharply, then slammed the phone shut with a scoff.

“Why didn't you say you know Jensen Ackles?” he mumbled, thrust a sheaf of paperwork into Jared's numb hand and left with a shrug towards the emergency room.

 ♦ 

By the time Jensen arrived at the clinic, hair disheveled from sleep and dressed in a loose pair of jeans and a Dallas Cowboys sweater under his thick coat, Jared had sunken down on one of the chairs.

Face buried in his blood-crusted hands and knees pulled to his chest, the boy leaned heavily against the plastic backrest, a tiny, hard ball of grief, illuminated by bright, white light. He had abandoned the paperwork after skimming through the first two pages and the clipboard lay unnoticed under the seat. He had counted the seconds and watched them turn into minutes. He had shattered into a million pieces time and time again, had pulled and puzzled himself together, well aware that with every passing minute another piece went missing. He had refused to take the water one of the vet nurses had offered him, and hadn't taken the painkillers either despite the throbbing pain in his sore shoulder. He had cried until his throat was dry and raw, had bit his bottom lip bloody, and now that Jensen was sitting down next to him, he felt small and inferior, like a child under the scrutinizing gaze of his parent.

Only that Jensen wasn't scolding him. Instead he grabbed the clipboard from the floor and started scribbling away. Filling in the gaps with his own name, date of birth and address, he didn't even hesitate to complete the process by signing at the bottom, right below the part where he had to grant that he was capable of covering the bill.

Jensen didn't demand an explanation of Jared after he'd finished the form and returned it to the clerk at the front counter, and together they sat in silence for quite a while until Jared felt strangled by guilt. Unfolding himself, he twisted in his seat until he faced Jensen.

“Thanks for... you know, coming here and—“

“Don't mention it, Jared,” Jensen cut in with a small smile curling his lips, hair an adorable mess and cheeks dusted with honeyed freckles. He looked amazing like that, almost like the average mid-twenties guy and nothing like the clean-shaven, superior businessman on the cover of the gossip magazine Danneel had handed him the other day.

“Wanna tell me what happened?”

Jared wanted to, and after he'd finished Jensen nodded, a serious look on his face. “Are you all right?”

Jared shrugged, winced only slightly at the sudden pang in his shoulder. “Yeah, I guess.”

“What about your arm? Does it hurt? Do I need to patch you up again?” Jensen inquired, eyes skimming down Jared's slumped-down form. He must have looked pretty pathetic, dirty and stained with Harley's blood, reeking of sweat and dog. His clothes were ripped and his last shower lay a week in the past, but Jensen's face didn't show any sign of disgust, and secretly Jared was grateful for the man's impressive self-control.

“No, 's all right, I'm okay,” Jared reassured him, and had to fight down the sudden urge to lean into Jensen's sure, sturdy body. They sat so close, crammed into the tiny plastic chairs, and the scent of Jensen's cologne was intoxicating.

“Good. I'm gonna go and ask for more information. Sit back and get some rest, Jared,” Jensen instructed after he'd gotten up again. “And if I were you, I'd take the aspirin and chug some water, you look like you need it. Badly.”

Nodding, Jared followed the well-meant piece of advice and after downing half the bottle and swallowing the bitter pill, things got a little fuzzy around the edges. Time turned into molasses and the buzzing activity inside the veterinary clinic spiraled down to a quiet hum. Voices blurred into one another and Jared felt like he was walking through a swamp, everything becoming soft and squishy around him. He felt exhausted beyond reason, and soon he dozed off despite the gnawing ache inside his stomach and the feeling of Harley's blood caking his skin.

Jensen woke him with a gentle tap on the shoulder after what felt like only three seconds. He was smiling, and he hadn't come alone. Dr. Collins, now in a surgeon's gown and with a clipboard in his hands, was standing right beside Jensen. The sight of the veterinarian sobered Jared up a great deal, making him jump to his feet immediately.

“Dr. Collins,” Jared heard himself slur, “How's my boy? How's Harley?”

The veterinarian gave a small, reassuring smile before he motioned for Jared to sit down again, taking the seat across from him. “He's doing reasonably well. The surgery went as expected and we could fix the broken pieces in his wrist back in place. He's weak from losing a great amount of blood and his body needs to deal with the aftermath of the anesthetic, but he'll make it. He's a good, strong dog.”

Jared couldn't stop the sob that wrenched out of his throat, and he sucked in a shaky breath. “Is he awake? I mean, can I see him?”

Dr. Collins' expression faltered. “Unfortunately that's against the clinic's policy. Harley is still in the post-surgery haze and too much excitement could cause a state of shock, or even worse swamp his heart's capacity.”

“But I need to tell him that he's gonna be okay again. Please, just a minute,” Jared pleaded, not caring that he was begging and sounding like a desperate child.

“Mr. Jared, you need to understand that Harley is still a patient of the ICU. He's stable right now, but to make sure he's staying that way we need to grant a quiet, restful environment for him to sleep off the medication and regain his composure. I'm sorry, but you can come back tomorrow to see him and in the meantime I promise to take good care of him.”

Jared was about to object, but Jensen cut him off without batting an eye after signing another form on the veterinarian's clipboard.

“All right, Dr. Collins. That's what we wanted to hear,” he replied curtly, voice steady and oozing confidence. “I don't think that I need to remind you that Harley only deserves the best treatment? This dog is precious to me beyond measure and I won't accept anything but absolute quality work, you hear me? Money is not an issue.”

Dr. Collins nodded dutifully.

“Good. I expect to hear from you around five this afternoon to report Harley's condition back to me. Thanks for your hard work.”

And just like that, Jensen grabbed Jared by the sleeve and pulled him along as he left the veterinary clinic in favor of stepping out into a crisp November morning. They stood next to each other in silence for quite some time, just breathing, sucking in the cold, harsh breeze. After swallowing stale hospital air for more than three hours, the change felt otherworldly, and Jared found himself gasping greedily. He considered protesting against being talked over so easily, wanted to be upset about Jensen's asshole performance back then, but he felt exhausted down to the marrow of his bones and it was nice to have someone to take care of things for a change.

After watching the busy streets for a few quiet seconds, Jensen stretched his back with a yawn as he started walking towards a sleek, black sports car waiting in the first row of parking stalls right in front of the clinic

“You coming?” he asked over his shoulder, arching a brow at Jared, who was still rooted to the spot in front of the clinic.

“Am I— _what_?” the boy replied, quizzical look on his face.

“Coming. To sit next to me in the car. So we can drive our pretty asses to my apartment to get some rest and food before I have to go to my appointment at twelve. Or do you have other plans? Perhaps another catastrophe you have to attend today?”

Jared had a hard time catching up with Jensen's wit, but felt his jaw drop as the words finally dawned on his hazed mind. “You want me to come with you?”

“Well duh, unless you want to stand outside that terrible building all day and freeze your balls blue.”

“Um, no.”

Jensen shrugged, unlocking the car and even opening the passenger door for Jared. “Then hop in, princess. Baby's all ready for you.”

The drive through New York's crammed streets during rush hour was long and stressful. Jensen was an impatient driver and they still needed almost an entire hour to reach their destination. Jared had spent most of the time dozing against the window, lulled to sleep by the quiet Classic Rock station and Jensen's exasperated sighs. He still felt somewhat dizzy when he jerked awake after the car came to a halt in front of a tall, pretentious building made out of pale sandstone.

“Where are we?” Jared mumbled while getting out of the car, the pain in his shoulder pounding to life again.

“My apartment.”

Jared glanced towards the old, tall building with a frown. “I thought you lived in the hills outside the city?”

“That's where my parents live. I have a separate place so I can work here during the week. Pretty useful when your working schedule changes every week.”

They walked towards the building and Jared looked like a shy, wary deer as he looked the street up and down. “Which part of New York is this?”

“Upper East-Side.”

“Manhattan, of course.”

Jensen's smile was sly as he pushed the big, expressive door open and choose not to comment on Jared's notion. Instead he led his guest to an elevator at the end of an exclusive hallway and waited until Jared had joined him in the spacious cubicle before he pressed the topmost button on the console.

The penthouse suite turned out to be one of the most beautiful apartments Jared had ever seen in his entire life. It was big enough to house an entire regiment of people and yet was oddly intimate, with lots of crooked corners and a thick, red carpet. The walls were tall and decorated with numerous pictures, framed by dark wood. The living area was bigger than Stephen's entire apartment and a huge, plush sofa invited the observer for lazy Sunday afternoons and long nights in the soft embrace of the cushions.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Jensen introduced, actually blushing somewhat. “I didn't clean up after you called me. I mean, obviously I didn't, but, um, make yourself at home.”

Jared took in a deep breath, reveling in the scent of the room: clean and fresh scent like pines after a rain's shower and snow on forest ground.

“Why are you doing this?”

Jensen shrugged out of his coat as he contemplated his reply, kicking his boots off in a smooth motion. “I dunno, maybe I have a soft spot for stray dogs. And Harley.”

Jared snorted, an ugly, throaty sound in the silence of the apartment. “Yeah, sure.”

“Okay, then how about I have a helper's syndrome?”

“Didn't seem to be that distinct when we met for the first time.”

Jensen's sigh was exasperated and he threw his arms up as he wandered into the living room, socks padding softly against the rich, lush carpet. “Okay fine, Sherlock. You got me. I like you.”

For a split second Jared allowed himself to believe him, for Jensen's voice had sounded so soft and vulnerable under the thick layers of sarcasm. But Jared would have been a fool to trust him, to allow himself to let go. Squaring his shoulders he replied tiredly.

“There's no such thing as liking a poor, sick fuck like me. You pity me, is all.”

“I don't—“

“But you will,” Jared cut in, a bitter taste clogging his throat. “Sooner or later they all do. That's usually when they get tired of me.”

Jensen, who had opened a drawer of a cupboard and was rummaging through its contents, turned around. “Yeah, sure, smart guy. Now go and get rid of all the dog blood, will ya? You stink like a slaughterhouse. Bathroom's down the hallway.”

And with a frown he pushed a towel, a pair of sweatpants and a clean, fresh shirt into Jared's arms before he made his way into the kitchen.

 ♦ 

Later, Jared barely remembered his time under the shower or for how long he had been standing there, water raining down on him, flushing away sweat, dirt and blood and tinging his skin pink with heat. Stripping in front of the full-body mirror earlier, he had gotten the chance to take a good, long look at himself for the first time in months and had been too tired to be shocked. He did manage surprise though, about how skinny he had become through the fall, his stomach hollowed and his limbs long and gangly. His hair had grown long, shaggy bangs brushing his forehead. Under the bright, white bathroom lights the natural golden tone of his skin was a sharp contrast to the patches of ink that marked his chest, and the fresh, purple bruise that bloomed on the outer edges of his lanky frame by his right shoulder.

And though his face looked pretty much the same as it had a few years ago with a set of red-rimmed, hazel eyes, high-boned cheeks and gently curved lips, there was something different about it, a shadow haunting his features. It made Jared shy away from his reflection and stumble into the shower after leaving the rest of his clothes on the floor in a heap.

Rubbing his body and face clean had been nothing but bliss. With actual soap and a fancy-looking shampoo, Jared got to wash the dirt of the street from his skin and the grease out of his hair. He let the water splash on his face and run down his arched back until his muscles were all loose and warm. He scrubbed his skin rosy and watched the last traces of Harley's blood vanish down the drain along with suds of soap.

But even the longest shower in the history of men had to come to an end, and after what felt like an eternity Jared climbed out of the cubicle and into the fluffy embrace of the thick, white towel Jensen had handed him. It smelt like laundry detergent and was soft to the touch as it yielded to Jared's skin. He could have stayed wrapped in its cozy warmth for the rest of the week if it hadn't been for his stomach churning at the thought of what had brought him here in the first place.

Because fancy white bathrooms, hot showers and fluffy towels aside, he was in Jensen's debt and there was no way he could ever pay the money back. The small wage he gained from his work at the animal shelter barely covered Harley's food and what little he contributed to Stephen's rent whenever he stayed over for the night. He had no expensive belongings, no savings, nothing he could sell but himself and that thought alone sent him reeling so he had to sit down on the cool tiles in order to shimmy into the gray sweatpants. He was royally screwed, and with his guts twisting and his tired mind spinning from the revelation, he left the bathroom to join Jensen in the kitchen, his dirty, reeking clothes neatly placed next to his shoes by the door.

“I thought you got flushed down the drain, skinny as you are,” Jensen greeted from where he sat on a bar stool at the counter, shoveling scrambled eggs with bacon into his mouth.

Jared didn't know what to say, so instead he remained silent and rooted to the spot, hands fumbling with some loose threads on the shirt's hem.

“What? Are you just gonna stand there and watch me eat? Seriously? 'Cause that's gonna be awkward as fuck. C'mon, sit down. There are some eggs in the pan and I'm making coffee. Want some?”

The TV in the open living area was running, but no one was paying attention to the flickering images when Jared slid on the stool opposite to Jensen. He licked his lips at the sight of greasy food and his stomach growled like a ferocious beast, but he needed to know. Right now.

“How much do I owe you?” The words fell like lead out of Jared's mouth, weighing heavy between the two of them as Jensen slowly dropped his fork.

“You got nerves, big guy. I haven't even had my second coffee and already you're talking heavy stuff.”

Jared took a deep breath through his nose and kept squirming in his seat. “Yeah, I-I'm sorry. I just... I don't understand why you're doing all this and knowing my debt is the least I can do, right?”

“And then? What're you gonna do about it? Gonna carve the sum outta those bony ribs?” Jensen scoffed before he resumed piling egg onto his fork. “Look, Jared, the way I see it, you don't have the money anyway, so why don't we have some breakfast and wait for Dr. Collins' call before we start negotiating the terms of our agreement? Harley's gonna need all the time he can get, right?So, have some toast or pancakes. Or if you don’t want that, I think there's some cold take-out from last night in the fridge, suit yourself. And loosen up some, will you? I've seen enough tears for the next couple of years and it's not even noon.”

At this point Jared was flat-out gaping at Jensen. He had expected everything from a snarky remark to a bunch of stupefying numbers being throw at him. But Jensen's genuine concern for Harley and the unvarnished disregard for the circumstances Jared lived in hit Jared like a truck and silence fell for a while. At least until Jensen took it on himself to fill Jared's plate, rummaging through the kitchen and pouring each of them a mug of coffee until Jared found his tongue again.

“Thanks,” the boy said breathily when Jensen returned to slap a plate full of food on the counter in front of his guest. “I mean, really, thanks. For everything.”

“Don't mention it. Now shut up and eat something. I need another two or three hours to wake up before I can face the outside world again,” Jensen muttered.

Jared's eyes went wide as he eyed Jensen's breakfast choice for him and a small smile appeared on his lips. “I'm gonna make it up to you, I swear.”

“Yeah, yeah. Now eat,” Jensen replied gruffly, blushing, and stuck his nose into the newspaper while Jared dug into cold pancakes and sultry-sweet apple pie with a generous dab of whipped cream on top.

After clearing their plates in strangely companionable silence, Jared helped Jensen load the dishwater. He half expected an awkward, stiff servant to appear as soon as they were done stuffing their faces with eggs and toast and sweet pastries, but no such thing happened and Jared was secretly grateful for it.

Grabbing his mug and the newspaper, Jensen padded into the spacious living area and over to the snuggly looking sofa. He didn't seem to mind Jared's presence as he pulled his legs to his chest and instead waved him over with a smirk.

Thrusting the remote for the ridiculously large flat-screen TV into Jared's hands as soon as the boy approached, Jensen got comfortable in the soft, plush cushions. “I'm gonna need a few more minutes with the business section, but feel free to zap around and settle on whatever tickles your fancy. I'm not picky.”

“Neither am I,” Jared muttered and awkwardly climbed on a pile of lush, green pillows at the other end of the couch—as far away from Jensen as possible.

He took his time idly flipping through the channels until he finally settled on a bright and colorful cartoon with funny characters and loud, annoying voices. The show would keep him awake and his mind occupied.

On the other end of the sofa, Jensen seemed pretty engrossed in his literature and with his eyes narrowed on the pages and his foot lazy tapping against the cushions, he seemed focused enough for Jared to dare a longer glance.

In spite of their first encounter where Jensen had been big-mouthed, annoyed and rude, entirely the big, bad boss the magazines so desperately wanted to make him, he now looked pretty normal. With a pair of worn-soft, faded jeans and a navy blue tee hanging loosely on his frame, he seemed almost out of place in the luxurious living room. His eyes were glued to the paper and even from the other end of the couch Jared could see those thick, curved lashes. The tip of Jensen's nose was slightly upwards, giving Jensen's features a soft touch in contrast to his strong, chiseled jawline. Freckles were dusted all over his cheeks and down his neck, looking like faded kisses of summer sun, and his plush lips were soft and inviting. Yes, Jensen was undeniably gorgeous, from the messy brown hair, to the thick fingers and down to the sharp outline of his strong thighs.

Though he still was a spoiled, rich brat and nothing but a pretty face, right? And sooner or later he would regret today's decisions and show Jared the door, but not before demanding something in return for his generous gesture. And until then, Jared decided to be on guard. At least that was what he settled on before he slipped into a fitful slumber, lulled to sleep by the TV's quiet hum and Jensen's calm presence.


	4. Chapter 4

Jared hadn't intended on getting comfortable, let alone dozing off, which explained his startled moan when he was gently pulled out of his dreams by a steady pat on his shoulder. 

“Hey sleepyhead, I'm gonna be gone for an hour or two,” a whiskey-smooth voice drawled through the sluggish haze of Jared's heavy mind. 

Prying his eyes open, Jared found Jensen's face only mere inches from his own and his hands bracketed on either side of Jared's body. 

“Whatcha talkin' 'bout, dude?” was all Jared could mumble before Jensen straightened up again and was out of reach within the blink of an eye. 

“I'm gonna need to work for a while, but you can stay here. Just make sure you don't hurt yourself; my insurance doesn't cover idiocy,” Jensen replied, flattening his crisp, white button-down before slipping into a black suit jacket. 

Dumbstruck, Jared watched as his generous host grabbed his watch and a brown leather briefcase. He was still busy processing what was going on. Jensen was about to go. He would leave Jared. Alone. In a luxurious apartment, brimming over with expensive furniture and housing a few of the most valuable electronics Jared had ever seen. 

“Okay Boy Wonder, I gotta go. Make yourself at home, take a look around, get to know the terrain. Do some laundry if you're up for it, washer is that way. Oh, and if you're in need: the code for the adult channels is 2401. Try it out, thank me later.” 

And just like that Jensen was down the hallway and out the door, leaving a gaping and confused Jared on the sofa. 

It took Jared a few minutes to adjust to the new, definitely unfamiliar situation. Someone must have put a blanket on him while he was asleep, a warm, fluffy, white thing with a neatly stitched pattern in silver and gray running along the edges. It was wrapped around Jared's body like the ghost of a hug, keeping him warm. The TV was still running though the program had changed to classic cartoons, less bright but more considerate. The newspaper Jensen had been reading lay discarded on the coffee table and only a slight dent in the plush cushions remained of his presence, the sight making Jared's throat go dry for some inexplicable reason. Slumber tugged on Jared's lids and he was inclined to go back to sleep for another hour, but curiosity got the best out of him and slowly he uncurled from the blanket's comfortable grip. Getting to his bare feet, Jared took a last sip from his cold coffee before he hesitantly went to explore. 

The back of the living room wall was largely glass, huge floor-to-ceiling windows allowing a clear view of the bustling streets of Upper Manhattan and bathing the room in soft, natural light. The sky was still overcast and the clouds tinged gray, and Jared watched a few fat droplets of slush clatter against the cool glass before he turned away again. 

Bookshelves mostly covered the left side of the room, huge wooden things with crooked edges and dark knotholes spotting the smoothly polished surface. They were stuffed full of books and magazines and what appeared to be an impressive collection of vinyl records. Walking over to the neatly stacked cardboard casings, Jared cautiously skimmed through the labels and felt his lips curl into a smile at the selection. From Aerosmith to Zeppelin, AC/DC to Zappa, every record was fondly labeled, wrapped in crisp plastic covers and carefully tucked away. Boston, Queen, Blue Öyster Cult, Rush, Stevie Nicks and Pink Floyd sat next to Journey and Dylan and Jared was in sheer awe of the massive collection. He kept tracing the backs of the record's gingerly until his knees started aching from his awkward, hunkered-down position and he had to straighten up again. 

The walls of the living room were covered in a few artsy pictures and photographs taken by skillful hands. Thick curtains in fir-tree green flanked the window wall and a huge, high-end entertainment center resided right below the flat-screen TV. A couple of knobby armchairs were grouped around the coffee table, providing enough room for a large group of people to sit. Their cushions were mellow soft and the smooth fabric yielded to the touch as Jared dragged a hand across their backrests. A few pillows were scattered across the floor, like someone had dropped them in their haste and Jared stopped to pick them up before carefully placing them on the sofa. 

There was no bar, like Jared had expected there to be, nor a pool table or some cheap arcade slot machine. The tabletops weren't marble and nothing assembled in the living area was cold or white or silver-glass. Instead the spacious room was cozy, downright snuggly, and the air smelled like pine and soap and faint sprinkles of expensive cologne. 

Trailing back into the kitchen, Jared listened to the quiet buzzing of the dishwasher for a moment before he mustered the courage to venture further into the apartment without being too intrusive. He found another bathroom right next to the master bedroom at the end of the hallway and Jared only took a quick glance before wandering off again. Words like “privacy” held meaning for him, and even with Jensen's explicit invitation, the doors to the bedroom remained closed. 

There was a big office right next to the kitchen with big, sturdy furniture of the same hardwood he'd seen in the living room before. And just like before they were stuffed with books and papers and gigantic collections of encyclopedias and dictionaries. A huge desk offered more surface area to pile endless amounts of papers on, and Jared backed out of the room before he could get dizzy from the smell of ink and old books. 

Continuing on his path, Jared discovered another bedroom, a guestroom and an almost empty laundry room. Remembering what Jensen had suggested earlier, Jared went to pick up his clothing from the floor by the door and carefully placed the dirt-stained clothing in the washer before venturing on. Next door was a third bathroom and a small storage room, crammed full with all sorts of coats, shoes and other discarded clothing. A pair of ice-skates crossed his way just as he was about to close the door, and giving the room a second glance, Jared spotted a hockey stick and a soccer ball. A guitar covered in a sheen of dust leaned against the wall and Jared wondered if those things belonged to Jensen. He had imagined the man more of a tennis and golf kind of person, though. 

On his way back to the living area, Jared stopped at the bathroom to drink a few gulps of water from the sink. The air inside the luxurious room was still damp, fogging the mirror, and Jared found himself grateful for the decency, having seen enough of his tired, haggard face for one day. And then he was back into the living room and didn't know what else to do aside from flopping down on the lush sofa again and sinking back into the cushions. 

The classic cartoon marathon was still on and after considering all his options, Jared decided to just go with Jensen's earlier suggestion and stay put until he got word from the veterinarian. It was the only chance he had, and though his stomach plummeted at the memory of Harley's hunched, twisted body on the asphalt, Jared settled back into the cushions with a sigh, eyes glued to the flat-screen and hands curled around the thick, fuzzy blanket. 

 ♦ 

Contrary to what he said earlier, Jensen returned from his errands in the late afternoon. Darkness had already fallen on the city when Jared heard the keys turn in the lock and he propped himself up on his elbows, suddenly wide awake. He had spent the day dozing on and off on the sofa, his lazy routine only interrupted by short trips to the bathroom where he drank greedily from the sink. He had stared out of the impressive window-wall for almost an hour, watching the cars drive by and the slush turning into snow as it dripped out of the cotton-wool clouds. The painkillers from the veterinary clinic had worn off hours ago and a stinging ache nestled in Jared's shoulder, right where the purple bruise bloomed beneath the shirt's thin fabric. It had taken him a long time to twist his body into a position where he didn't wince from pain and with Jensen's sudden appearance, Jared felt awkward and out of place. 

Jensen however didn't seem to mind the presence of a half-stranger on his sofa at all as he strode in with a crooked smile. 

“Heya nerd,” he greeted, pulling the tie from his collar as soon as he'd dropped his briefcase on to the floor. “How's it going?” 

Straightening the blanket in his lap, Jared mustered a small smile. “Um, good I guess. You?” 

“Peachy, as soon as I get out of these clothes. Hold on a sec,” Jensen replied before walking off into his bedroom. 

He returned a minute later in the same loose jeans he'd worn earlier and with a hoodie jacket pulled on top, and though his hair was still neatly slicked back he looked much more comfortable already. Jared nodded appreciatively. 

“Man, I'm hungry,” Jensen mumbled as he made his way to the fridge to skim through the insides with a frown. “Hey, you wanna order pizza?” 

Jared didn't reply and instead just watched the man purse his lips and slam the fridge shut again. He didn't know what to say other than that he had no money to pay for fucking pizza, that he hadn't had any in forever and his mouth watered at the mere notion of molten cheese and tomato sauce on thin, crispy dough. 

Walking over to the sofa, Jensen took a few heartbeats to study his guest with a serious look on his face. “Okay, I see you're not much of a talker. Pity, you seem like a smart guy. Anyway, the vet called earlier.” 

“What? And you're only telling me this now?” Jared spat, almost choking on his breath. Suddenly he was wide awake, his body buzzing with anxiety.

“Easy tiger,” Jensen drawled, arms coming to cross in front of his broad chest. “Don't fret. It was good news. Well, as good as it can be, that is.” 

Struggling out of the blanket and pushing to his feet, Jared stumbled forward until he was close enough to smell Jensen's cologne, the scent of his heated skin. “What did he say? Is Harley okay? Can I see him?” 

“He said Harley is doing okay given the circumstances. He woke up a little too slowly and they had to inject an antidote for the anesthetic two hours after we left. But he's still stable and the surgery was considered a success.” 

Jared swallowed thickly. “When can I see him?” 

“Hold your horses, will ya? Dr. Collins said tomorrow; the risk of too much excitement is still a considerable factor.” 

“That's bullshit,” Jared roared, throat clogging with fear and a squirming ache settling in his gut. “It's not just any dog were talking about here, okay? That's Harley. He needs me. We've been a team since I adopted him and he's... he's...” 

“Special?” Jensen suggested quietly before unclasping his hands from his bicep to place a heavy, warm hand on the boy's shoulder. “I know that he's more than just a dog for you, Jared. But he needs some more rest and the doctors know what they're doing.” 

Jared managed to bite back a sob, though his hunched shoulders still twitched treacherously with choked tears. “And what am I supposed to do, huh? What am I supposed to do with myself while he's lying there, alone and in pain?” 

The weight of Jensen's hand was soothing, the warmth of his palm like an anchor. Slowly, the heat seeped through Jared's thin shirt and into his skin. Jensen was so close, his body leaning towards the grieving boy and the words of comfort he had to offer were spoken in a soft tone. 

“He's not alone, don't be silly. I made Dr. Collins promise that at least one of their nurses would be around at all times. They gave him plenty of painkillers and he's probably fast asleep right now after he had some food,” Jensen explained patiently, giving Jared's uninjured shoulder a light clap. “And as for your question: how about we order some pizza and throw in a stupid action movie while you tell me how you got Harley, huh? Sounds like a plan?”

Jared shook his head. “I can't, Jensen. I can't do that. I can't just sit around doing nothing while he's out there without me.” 

Jensen's sigh was exasperated, the look on his face turning serious. “And what do you want to do instead?” 

“I... I don't know, I was just—“

“Look, Jared, this is hard for you, I get it,” Jensen cut in, fingertips digging gently into the soft skin right above Jared's collar. “But you need to play by the rules, you hear me? Just this one time. And when it's over you can go out and be a pain in everyone's ass again. But right now you need to stay put and wait until the vet gives you the go-ahead or you're risking doing some serious damage to your friend.” 

Jared felt his lower lip quiver with all the unspilled tears that welled in the corners of his eyes. His throat felt too tight to swallow or breathe. But somehow his chest heaved and the world moved on and there was nothing Jared could do but comply. He knew that Jensen was right, that there was nothing he could do to help Harley right now—so why was his stomach churning while the heart beneath his ribs ached like someone had stabbed it with a searing pole? 

Jensen's hand was still on Jared's trembling shoulder when he spoke again, steadying him, grounding him. His voice was soft and the small smile on his lips couldn't conceal his concern. “So what do you say, Boy Wonder? Pizza and crappy movies?”

Jared nodded and thus their plans for the upcoming evening were made. The boy left it to Jensen to order food and curled up on his spot on the sofa instead, knees pressed to his chest and chin propped up on his arms. He didn't feel like talking and Jensen let him be, instead called the pizza service and getting the entertainment system ready for a marathon of every fucked-up action movie he could find in his pretty impressive collection. He put plates and glasses on the coffee table, opened a bottle of rich, velvety red wine and poured them both a generous amount of the crimson liquid. He let some cold, fresh air in and was just about to start the first movie when a knock on the door announced the arrival of their food. 

“I wasn't sure what you like,” Jensen explained while he piled an insane number of pizza boxes onto the coffee table. “So I picked a little of everything, hope you'll find something decent.” 

Rubbing a hand over his face, Jared felt his mouth water with the smell of greasy food. “You're nuts,” he muttered in return, unfolding himself to get a better look on the ordered goods. And damn, if Jensen wasn't completely insane. Instead of bothering Jared, he had decided to order the entire menu, including garden salads, tiramisu, bowls of thick ice cream and various kinds of pasta in silver plastic boxes. 

Grinning and shoving a pair of forks and spoons into Jared's hands, Jensen settled down next to Jared and started the DVD without sparing his guest a second glance. The movie rolled and just like that they started digging into all sorts of delicious, greasy, Italian food, and for once Jared didn't need to worry which parts to save for the next day. Instead he kept his eyes on the screen while he swallowed around mouthfuls of pasta and salad and cheese-filled pizza buns until he felt like he might explode at any second. 

Silently, they put the remains of their feast away after it was clear that neither of them could eat another spoonful of vanilla and caramel ice cream. They returned to their movie in the same companionable silence, seated on either side of the sofa and wrapped into fancy blankets. 

Jared didn't doze off again, but was grateful when Jensen called it a night after the third trash movie. 

“C'mon, let's get you some new sheets before we crash,” he announced, stretching and arching his back with a moan so obscene that Jared had to tear his eyes away to hide the blush that spread down his neck. 

Nodding, the boy got up too, and together they trailed into the bedroom to get a fresh set of sheets for Jared. 

“Guest room's that way,” Jensen muttered and pointed at the door down the hallway. “I shuffled some things around for tomorrow so we can leave early for the clinic.”

“Shit, Jensen, you didn't have to—“

“Yeah, but you don't wanna walk all the way to Queens, I take it,” Jensen cut in, voice stern around a jaw-cracking yawn. “And besides they'll be eager to get the rest of the money and I'd rather do that myself, yeah?” 

Jared nodded, defeated, and was about to trot off into the guestroom when he felt a short tug on his arm, a warm, sure hand clasping around his bony wrist. “I'm just down the hallway if there's anything you need, okay? Don't hesitate to wake me up.” 

In the fuzzy half-light of the hallway the look on Jensen's face was so honest, his bottle-green eyes wide and black pupils blown impossibly wide. He had kept his voice soft and was touching Jared like he was something fragile that needed to be treasured. 

“I... yeah, okay,” Jared managed to grind out before he pulled his wrist out of the tender grip and stumbled into the guestroom, sheets clutched to his chest and cheeks flushed bright pink. 

 ♦ 

Jared spent the night miserable and lonesome. Without Harley's even breath and quiet grunts beside him, he felt lost in the too-clean and too-soft sheets and groaning he tossed and turned in the pillows until his shoulder ached and his skin felt raw. Hours ticked by and while he managed to fall asleep once in a while, he mainly spent the time watching the ceiling and wishing for his best friend to be there, shuffling around next to him and soothing him with the slow in and out of his breath. 

But Harley stayed away and in the hospital and with the first, gray light Jared was up and on his feet, ready to leave for the veterinary clinic. 

He didn't even finish his coffee and simply dragged a grumpy and annoyed-looking Jensen with him as he stumbled out of the apartment, wrapped in a black hoodie and nose buried in his sticky scarf. The cloth still smelled like blood. Jared was anxious for the whole ride, shifting nervously in his seat until they arrived at the clinic.

Bright light flooded the entrance area when Jared stalked through the door, Jensen just one step behind him, and Dr. Collins was already standing at the counter, seemingly waiting for them.

“Ahhh, Mr. Ackles,” he greeted, shaking first Jensen's then Jared's hand in a firm grip. He looked weary, the vivid blue of his eyes clouded by fatigue and with dark circles shadowing the skin of his cheeks. But Jared didn't come here for him, so he didn't so much as spare a short glance before spilling the words he wanted to say since he'd left the clinic yesterday. 

“I'm here to see my dog.”

Dr. Collins nodded good-naturedly and grabbed a clipboard from the counter top before he started to lead the way down a white-washed hallway. “Of course you are. And I'm delighted to tell you that our patient is doing very well. He had a good amount of food in the morning and is already up to some mischief again.”

Jared felt his heart skip a beat and with a quiet gasp he caught up to the vet's wide steps. They halted in front of a gray door. Dr. Collins was about to say something but Jared was pushing past him in and through the door in a flash, leaving the two surprised men behind. 

Inside the room waited a few empty kennels and Jared rushed down the small alley, counting quietly, stumbling, and then he caught a glimpse of yellow fur and chocolate eyes. 

“Harley,” he breathed, his voice harsh and desperate in his own ears. His eyes stung with tears at the sight of the dog, lying on his side with a thick, white bandage around his front paw. The coat around the injury across his flank was shorn off and the rosy, paper-thin skin bunched as Harley tried to scramble to his feet. 

Fumbling with the metal, Jared unhooked the kennel door and was next to his friend and on his knees within seconds, his hands cupping Harley's big face. 

“Harley, buddy, what are you doing, huh? Getting run over by cars, are you kidding me?” he whispered, his voice so thick with grief and relief it made him shudder. Wagging his tail and yipping softly at Jared's words, Harley licked a long, warm swipe across his owner's face. He seemed completely content with the boy's boisterous greeting and kept nuzzling his thick head into the crook of Jared's neck until they both gasped for air. 

“Looks like you two found each other already,” Dr. Collins' voice resonated from outside the kennel and Jared turned to see him standing in the alley, right next to Jensen who was watching him closely. Jensen's gaze was warm and he seemed relaxed, leaning against the clinic's wall with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. Jared felt his pulse sky-rocketing at the sight of a private little smile curling those plush, full lips. 

“Can I take him home today?” Jared asked, pleading, as he kept stroking his palms down Harley's head and scratching behind his ears. 

Dr. Collins' face fell and Jared knew the answer before the vet even opened his mouth. “I'm afraid I have to turn you down. Harley's doing good, great actually, but look at him. He's still heavily bruised and the wounds need to be tended to every three to four hours. Rachel changes the bandages five times a day.” 

“But he's awake—“

Dr. Collins nodded. “Yes, but he's still weak. And constantly needs pain killers, liquids and anti-inflammatory medicine via IV. He's stable and out of the rift, but far from fit enough to live... on the streets.” 

Jared was still busy trying to process the words, when Jensen suddenly jumped in. “Hey, hey, Harley's not living on the streets, okay? He has a home and a warm place to sleep.” 

Dr. Collins had the decency to blush, but kept his gaze focused on Jared. “Well, that's good to hear. But still I have to insist on keeping him for an additional two nights at least. After that we will take another X-Ray to check the position of the screws we had to drill into the bones and then you can take him home, Jared. Deal?” 

Jared didn't want to give in but with a groan he turned his face to Harley. “You hear that, buddy? They're gonna keep you for a while, but just to make sure you're okay. And I'll be back tomorrow, right Jensen?”

Jensen, frown still in place and arms crossed in front of his impressive chest, nodded. “Yeah, sure.” 

“See? Jensen's here to help us, we'll make it okay again. We will run together again, I promise.” 

Harley whined quietly at the soft words, nosing along Jared's face and pushing closer to the boy's body like he was aching for warmth and safety just like Jared. The whine became louder when Jared rose to his feet and Jensen had to put both hands on Jared's squared, stiff shoulders when Dr. Collins closed the kennel again. 

“Can I stay for a while?” Jared asked in a last, futile attempt and wasn't even surprised when the vet shook his head. 

“Clinic policy, I take it?” Jensen snarled and together they made their way outside, all the while accompanied by Harley's pained whimpers and Jared's quiet, dry sobs. 

At the counter, Jensen knocked off the paperwork and finished by slapping a fat pack of bills onto the counter top. He made sure to remind the vet of his responsibility towards Harley, signed a last bill and was next to Jared to push him out on the sidewalk within barely three minutes. 

“You okay?” he asked as they flopped into the seats of his sleek, black Camaro. 

Jared shrugged. “Dude, do I look like I'm okay?” 

Jensen didn't bother to reply and just smoothly backed out of the parking spot instead before joining the sheer endless queue of cars that would guide them back to Manhattan eventually. 

 ♦ 

Jared spent the rest of the day in a similar fashion as the first one. Curled up into a tight, hard ball of grief, he watched TV until Jensen had to leave for work and then continued to flip through the channels until he got fed up with it. At some point he mustered the courage to call the animal shelter just to listen to Danneel's endless litany of _I-was-so-fucking-worried-how-dare-you_. He knew that she didn't mean to come off as rude and that it was only the concern that made her yell, but after the call and having promised to come by soon, Jared felt drained and on edge. 

Like a tiger in a golden cage he strolled through the apartment, opened the windows to take a deep breath of cold air, skimmed through a few books, listened to music. But every step on his way made everything seem worse and after two hours of being alone in the loft, Jared felt lost and too small for the skin he was wearing. The walls were too high, the cushioned floor like a gaping abyss, and with his lungs aching he fled into the bathroom where he curled up on the cool tiles. 

That's where Jensen found him when he strolled in an hour later, shopping bag in his hand and one eyebrow arched in question. 

“Why are you lying on the floor?” he asked incredulously, suit and tie still in place. 

Jared shrugged. “Just felt like it,” he admitted with a small, timid voice. He felt stupid for freaking out, now that his breathing had eased again and his heart had stopped racing away like a frantic rabbit. 

“Well, how about you get up and help me get this stuff turned into an actual meal, huh?”

Jared sat up. “Sorry, can't cook for shit.” 

“That makes two of us,” Jensen replied with a lopsided smile. “But we can't live off of take-out and pizza forever and we'll work it out. C'mon, get up you nerd and let's see what you can do.” 

Cooking together turned out to be easy and incredibly fun. After changing into something more comfortable, Jensen assigned Jared to chop some vegetables into neat little cubes and busied himself cooking the rice. He offered Jared a beer which the boy gladly accepted, and after checking the temperature of the oven he joined Jared at the counter. 

They worked together in peace next to each other, bodies in sync and almost touching in the close space of the kitchen. Jared could smell Jensen's skin and reveled in the warmth the man was radiating. Jensen wasn't as tall as Jared, but he was broader, his chest bulky and the flesh around his shoulders thick and strong. He didn't look the type to do excessive work-outs but still for a second Jared was mesmerized by the smooth slide of his muscles beneath the thin layer of his white cotton shirt. 

“Fetch me the peppers?” Jensen asked into the comfortable silence, nothing but the soft play of the radio in the distance. 

Jared did as he was told and found that his hands were shaking a bit. He bit his lip. “So what's it gonna be, Master Chef?” 

Jensen's smile was lopsided and a little mischievous as he added the green and yellow veggies to the simmering oil in a pan. Sprinkling in some spices and a generous dollop of honey, he stirred the mix until the ingredients were evenly distributed. 

“It's called _Jensen's Special_ and you should be grateful, bozo. Not everyone's in a place to say they had the pleasure to taste this very rare and special treat.” 

Jared ducked his head at that and guilt came rushing back into the pit of his stomach, unfurling its heated wings in the boy's gut. “I _am_ grateful... for you know, everything.” 

Hating how small his voice sounded, Jared turned away. He wasn't usually like this, didn't yield to rich kids' cheap speeches and their expensive clothes and unbelievable offers and unwavering support and ridiculously attractive faces and goddamn stupidly perfect eyes. But things had been rough lately and it had felt good to relax for a moment, to stop and smell the roses before the harsh reality came crashing down on him again. 

“Jared, for crying out loud. That's not what I meant,” Jensen shouted from where he had thrown the spatula into the sink, looking almost sheepish. “It's a rare occasion that I cook for someone other than my annoying little sister, is all. That wasn't a dumb-ass reminder for you; I'm not that much of an asshole.”

He sounded hurt. Jared risked a look from under his shaggy bangs to see Jensen pouting, face pulled into a frown. 

“I... no, you're not. I guess. But you did act like one when you let your driver run me over,” Jared joked, relieved to see the ghost of a smile on Jensen's lips. 

Reclaiming the spatula, Jensen started stirring away again. “Jeez, would you please get over yourself and pass me the onions? Way to go guilt-tripping an innocent bystander.” 

“You're an awful liar, has anyone ever told you that, your highness?” Jared replied casually, handing the chopping board over. Glad that the mood had lightened up again, he joined Jensen at the oven and together they watched the chopped vegetables sizzle in the oil, smelling fantastic like fresh herbs and exotic spices. 

They were close again, their arms almost brushing and Jared could count the tiny pearls of sweat that ran down Jensen's temple in the heat of the steaming food, his eyes catching on the constellation of freckles, carelessly scattered on the slightly tanned skin. And from there it was only a short trip down to the man's thick fingers, his strong flexing forearms and the sharp cut of his hips, shifting in the black sweatpants. 

Getting more nervous by the second, Jared skipped through their banter in a desperate attempt to find something to spin another conversation from. He found something pretty easily and after a last look into the pan he wandered off to sit on one of the bar stools around the counter. 

“So, you have a sister?” 

It turned out that Jensen had a both a younger sister and an older brother, along with about thirty cousins, a mom from Texas and a dad from somewhere in the North. He had two nieces and a nephew despite being only twenty-seven, and no, that red-haired girl back then in the limousine hadn't been his girlfriend, just a business partner with no sense of personal space whatsoever. 

“I grew up in the mansion outside the city,” Jensen explained with his cheeks stuffed full of rice and veggies once they were seated at the counter. Jensen had graduated from the University of Pennsylvania in record time and with honors before starting to work for his father's business. Contrary to what Jared would have expected, Jensen had started at the bottom instead of using daddy's influence and good name, and had slowly climbed his way up the ladder until he had claimed the seat as CEO. He was supposed to run daddy's business after Alan retired, being heir to a fucking empire. 

After finishing their surprisingly tasty meal, they settled on the sofa. This time, instead of sitting on either side, they met in the middle. Jared had his chin propped up on his hand while he listened to Jensen complain about having a servant over at sleepovers when he was a child. He didn't sound like a prissy, annoying dick anymore, and with every sentence Jared felt more at ease in his presence. He even found himself smiling at one or two of Jensen's utterly shitty stories and the tips of his fingers started to tingle with every inch they moved closer to each other. 

“So, what about you?” Jared heard Jensen say after quite a while. The clock had ticked past nine hours ago and the lights of the city had gone dim. “What about your family?” 

Feeling the familiar stiffness settle into his bones, Jared squared his shoulders with a snarl. His blood washed hot through his veins, and suddenly he felt like the tiger again, trapped between the sofa and Jensen's bulk and his skin pierced by an intense, green gaze. He knew Jensen didn't mean to intrude, but Jared was already flinching away from the man's form, getting to his feet. 

“That's none of your business, man,” he spat, shoulders hunching and muscles going taut. His fingers had curled into hard, sharp fists, and dismay vibrated through his every fiber, making him shake like a leaf in a crisp fall breeze. 

Jensen's eyes went wide with surprise. “Jared, I just wanted to... you know, be courteous. I didn’t mean any harm.” 

“Well, how about you take your fucking courtesy and shove it up your pretty ass, huh? There's no need to be polite with a street-rat, right? 'S a waste of fucking air, anyway.” Jared knew that he was being a dick, but something inside him had bunched into a hard, tight ball of anger and with a shudder he stomped towards the hallway. 

“Dude, are you okay?” Jensen yelled from where he was still seated on the sofa, face pulled into a frown. 

Jared huffed out an ugly, bitter snort. “Just shut up and stay out of my business, fuck wad. I don't need your pity; it means nothing to me.” 

“Fine, asshole. Just tell me when you're done throwing a fucking tantrum like a three year old, will you?”

“Fuck off!”

And just like that, Jensen heard the door of the guestroom being slammed shut and the sound of Jared's agitated voice was replaced by deafening silence. 

 ♦ 

The second night in Jensen's apartment was spent much like the first one. Throwing himself from one side to the other and twisting on the mattress until the blanket was coiled around him like a cocoon of stickiness and heat, Jared found himself more awake then asleep, and when he trotted into the bathroom the next morning he noticed a pair of deep, dark circles under his eyes. His hair was disheveled and greasy, the usually tan skin pale, and not even pinching his cheeks brought some color back on his face. 

Miserable and cranky as he was he struggled into the pair of sweatpants Jensen had handed him the day before and shimmied into the hoodie jacket before heading towards the kitchen. Jensen was already up, though sour-faced and scowling. Silently, he slapped a mug of coffee on the counter in front of Jared and was out of the kitchen within the blink of an eye. Jared sighed. 

Jensen was wearing a suit next time he emerged from his bedroom and with gruff words he hurried Jared into his dirty sneakers and the threadbare scarf before they left the apartment with a loud clang of the door. Dropping Jared at the clinic, Jensen explained in clipped words that he had to catch up on things today and would pick Jared up again in the afternoon. With a frown Jared nodded, almost forgot to say thank you, and slammed the car door shut without further ado. 

Harley was already waiting for Jared when he walked down the alley between the kennels and he greeted his friend with a loud bark, tail wagging and nose pushing into Jared's face. He seemed almost normal, and with a soft whine he tried to climb into Jared's lap as soon as the boy settled onto the cool, tiled floor. 

“Can I stay a little longer today?” Jared asked while scratching the dog's thin, cropped fur around the bandages. The plastic tape that held the cloth in place seemed to be itchy and Harley grunted gratefully. 

The nurse' brows furrowed. “Didn't Dr. Collins tell you about our policy yesterday?” she reminded him. She was pretty, with soft wavy hair and a beautiful, round face. 

Jared ducked his head. “Yeah, but... I just miss my buddy and... I'll be superduper quiet, okay? I promise. No one will even know I'm here, just you and me. Please.” 

“I could lose my job for this,” the vet nurse clarified with a soft shake of her head. The look on her face was stern though Jared noticed the ghost of a smile as she gazed down at the boy and his dog all curled up into each other, Harley's snout pushed into Jared's armpit and his eyes closed in utter contentment. 

“I don't want you to get into trouble, but I can't leave again so soon. He wouldn't understand, right buddy?” The dog gave a quiet grunt. “Please, just for the next half an hour. Please, Mrs.—“

“It's Rachel,” the woman replied and with a deep-drawn sigh, she closed the door behind Jared's back, leaving the latch unhooked. “And if I'm going to get in trouble for this, you'll convince your hot piece of ass boyfriend to pay me a big, fat severance package.” 

Jared was about to protest at the boyfriend part, but the vet nurse was already out of sight, and seconds later the door to the hallway clicked shut, leaving Jared and Harley to the humming silence of the kennel quarters. 

They kicked Jared out an hour later and the boy was pretty sure if it hadn't been for Jensen's signature on every form they would have dismissed Harley as well. As it was, they only crudely reminded Jared of where he stood in society's pecking order and walked him bodily out of the clinic with a sneer, the security guard giving him a harsh shove that made Jared stumble and almost crash into a post. 

“Fucking brutes,” he shouted as soon as the men were out of reach and after spitting on the ground three or more times, he was faced with the more urgent question of what to do now. Jensen had very clearly insinuated that he had grown tired of Jared, and without his keys, which he had inconveniently forgotten on the nightstand in Jensen's guest room, he couldn't even go to crash at Stephen's. He briefly considered going to see Genevieve, Julie and Danneel at the shelter until he realized that it was Wednesday and all three of the women would be outside of the city today, feeding the stray mutts in the suburbs. That left only Katie at the shelter and though Jared mostly appreciated her quiet, inquiring presence, he couldn't muster the courage to be around her today. There was something about the clever blond woman, the way she looked at Jared like he was only another stray dog, that made him want to cringe. Going to the animal shelter today would feel like a defeat and Jared couldn't possible take another blow to the gut right now. 

After considering his options for quite some time while trudging quietly down the sidewalk, Jared decided on his only real alternative: walking. Walking around in the city until it was late enough to go and see Jensen, to tell him that he would leave. It was almost a surprise how much the idea stung, and Jared pushed deeper into his scarf and pockets, hunching his shoulders against the wind as he blindly followed the road.

It started to snow in the early afternoon and even with a short stop at a soup kitchen he knew of, Jared was frozen blue by the time he reached the edge of Brooklyn, where the urban silhouette melted into skyscrapers and expensive single apartments. The boy's nose and lips had turned from rosy to blue, and icy crystals nestled in the curls behind his ears. Feet wet from the slush on New York's dirty sidewalks and every finger numb from the razor-sharp breeze, Jared's skin ached from the constant goosebumps, and his teeth hadn't stopped chattering since Queens. 

Cursing himself for not even bringing his beanie, Jared thought about having to spend the upcoming night alone again. Or worse, in a shelter, pressed next to other touch-starved and heat-seeking bodies and with a foul stench in his nose. He thought about how good Jensen's sheets smelled, like laundry detergent and pine trees, and that from now on only the faint traces that clung to his own, shabby clothes would remind him of the safety he had come to enjoy more than he would ever dare to admit. The truth was, he would miss a lot more than just the smell of fresh linens, but things like that were complicated, twisted and hard to think about. This wasn't about missing the way someone talked in a low drawl or the steady, even breathing close by while they watched crappy movies. It was about giving in to something, a commitment—and Jared wasn't ready to make one, not in a million years. 

So he pushed the unwanted, unacknowledged feelings away and tried to focus on his steps instead and the way his soaked sneakers crunched in the freshly fallen snow as he made his way to the Upper Eastside. 

It was a long walk, and darkness had enveloped the city when Jared finally stepped in front of the big sandstone building. There was no sight of Jensen's ridiculous muscle car in front of the entrance and no light filtered through the blank glass wall of the penthouse. Maybe Jensen wasn't home yet, or maybe he had decided to spend an extended weekend at his parent's house up in the hills. One way or the other, Jared was locked out, and after all those hours in the frigid cold he felt miserable and defeated by the weather and fate. He didn't want to cry and so he bit his lip hard, forcing the burning tears back down his throat as he slowly sunk down against the cold wall. He hunkered down in front of the building with his nose pushed into the clammy fabric of his scarf and his hands shoved far into his sleeves. 

Jensen found him like that half an hour later as he stumbled out of his Camaro, eyes wide and wild and frantically searching for Jared's. 

“Are you fucking stupid or something?” Jensen yelled, kicking the door shut and launching himself forward. “I told you to wait at the fucking clinic! Was that so hard?” 

Jared didn't move, didn't reply, only gazed up at Jensen's impressive form, looming over him with his soft coat and vivid eyes and plump lips twisted in anger. 

Jensen snorted. “I know that I was a little cranky this morning, but hell Jared, you can't just run off because I barked at you. I was... I was fucking worried sick. I drove by the stupid clinic and they told me that you had left hours ago and I thought that you were lost for good. Shit, you could've... you could've died out there for fuck's sake. What were you thinking?” 

Shrugging, Jared's eyes locked with Jensen's. Unerringly, like one magnet found the other, they took each other in. “They kicked me out and I didn't know where to go, is all. I thought that after... after last night and—“

“You weren't thinking for shit, Jared. Jesus Christ, what is it with you and putting yourself in mortal danger? Is that a hobby of yours? Should I expect more of that crap in the near future?” 

Jared shook his head and moaned quietly when Jensen bent down to clasp warm, steady hands around Jared's biceps. 

“You're frozen to the bone, aren't you? How long have you been sitting here?” 

Jensen jerked Jared to his feet with a sharp tug and for a split second Jared struggled for balance. “Like half an hour,” the boy replied dutifully, wincing at the stinging pain in his rigid muscles. 

Jensen only groaned in reply and locked the car with a press on the remote before he stalked towards the door, pulling Jared along. He didn't pay Jared's protest any heed, and he didn’t let go of the boy’s arm until they stumbled out of the elevator and into Jensen's warm apartment.

“Go take a shower and warm yourself up.” he barked, clearly agitated, and shrugged out of his coat. His face wasn't contorted in anger anymore, and concern and endless relief had replaced his searing stare. He chest was still heaving, but his voice had lost a lot of its heat. 

He watched Jared peel the frozen fabric of his drenched sneakers from his feet, then helped him out of the soaked hoodie jacket before ushering him into the bathroom with another “Go on, go.” 

It took Jared forever to warm-up his stiff, sore muscles and he cried all the way through the process, teeth gritted and jaw muscles painfully clenched. He felt stupid and alone, lost in the twisted events of the past few days, and when he stepped out of the shower and into the soft embrace of a fresh towel his eyes were puffy and his throat raw. He didn't join Jensen again in the kitchen, didn't bid him goodnight, and just headed straight for the guestroom, relieved that a neatly folded pile of fresh clothes waited from him the nightstand. 

After slipping into the gray tank top and soft, silken boxer briefs, he climbed under the covers and curled into himself, much like Harley did whenever they settled for the night. Strands of cold, wet hair were plastered against Jared's forehead and even with violent shivers running down his back and pinpricking along his arched spine like the kiss of a thousand needles, he soon drifted off into a fitful sleep. 

He woke to the sound of Harley's painful whimpers. Sitting up, Jared fumbled for the lamp on the nightstand but even after flipping the switch the darkness didn't melt away. Instead Harley's cries became louder, like thunder and lightning inside the small guestroom, and Jared heard himself respond in kind. With trembling muscles he lunged forward, his fingers splayed on the cool silk of the sheets, inching along the folds, searching frantically for the heat of Harley's body but only finding sticky wetness. The smell of copper crept into Jared's nostrils and with a terrible foreboding he crawled further, on hands and knees now until his shaking fingers bumped into something soft and wet. Rearing back, Jared felt himself retch. It was guts that he had touched, _guts_ , and they were spilled all over the silken covers. He knew it without having to see that they were Harley’s. 

“Harley, buddy! Please,” Jared tried to shush the screaming dog, but it was no use, for the dying animal was already beyond listening. Twisting and thrashing he spilled more of his insides on the sheets, covered Jared in hot, tacky blood until the boy tasted bile on his tongue. At some point Jared had started crying too, and he screamed for help and for Harley to stop until he couldn't feel his throat anymore. He cried for his parents, for God, for someone to make it stop, and at last he cried for Harley and nothing but Harley, only the dog's name coming out in short, broken pants as Jared drowned in warm, sticky blood. 

Suddenly, Jared woke up with a start. Still screaming, real and loud and desperate, he jerked upright and into a wall of thick, strong muscles beneath miles and miles of soft, freckled skin. 

“Shhh, Jared, it's okay,” Jensen's voice was suddenly everywhere, so gentle and warm and sure it made Jared sob in relief. 

“It was just a dream, just a dream, Jared. You hear me? Just a dream, it's all fine,” Jensen rambled on while he rocked them back and forth. After a few seconds of breathlessness, Jared blinked an eye open to find himself still in the guestroom, still in bed and securely wrapped in a firm embrace. And just because Jared felt like he was falling and he still could smell copper and blood, he wrenched his arms up and around Jensen's broad back, holding on to him for dear life. His throat felt raw from screaming and hot tears trickled out of his burning eyes when he pushed his face into the crook of Jensen's neck. 

“You're okay, Jared. Harley is okay. He's fine and taken care of, I promise. I made he was safe,” Jensen muttered, sliding his arms even further up Jared's knobby spine, right to the nape of his neck where his thumbs traced careful circles into his skin. “You'll be together again soon, just hang on a while longer. It was just a dream; you're safe with me,” 

Jared didn't feel ready to speak just yet and pushing even closer to Jensen's sure, steady form, he brought their bodies flush against each other. He let his eyes flutter shut again, took a deep, long breath until all the copper was gone and he smelled nothing but pine needles and skin and expensive cologne. He believed Jensen, believed that his words were real and true, and with a sob he let the tears roll in hot, salty rivulets down his cheeks and right onto Jensen's bare skin. 

“Shhh, Jared, shhh,” Jensen muttered softly, holding Jared safe and warm and letting the boy cry without further inquiry and without wincing away from Jared's ugly, desperate sobs. 

They clung to each other until the dark spots in front of Jared's eyes started to fade and he could breathe normally again. His pulse had somewhat settled, his heart wasn't hammering anymore, and Jensen's heat had cast out the shivers that had wracked his body for sheer endless minutes. 

Untangling himself from around Jensen's warm chest, Jared sat up. “I'm sorry,” he snuffled, wiping tears from his face with the back of his hand. He must have looked pretty stupid with his red-rimmed eyes and snot-stained nose, Jensen's tank top and boxer briefs hanging loosely around his lanky frame, his cheeks flushed. But Jensen didn't seem to mind as he leaned back to settle on his haunches. 

“'S nothing to be sorry for, Jared. You were having a bad dream, is all. Happens to the best of us,” he replied softly, arms now coming up to cross in front of his chest. He wasn't wearing anything besides a pair of sweatpants and Jared swallowed hard at the sight of all the bare, honeyed skin and the impressive bulk of muscles bunching underneath the smooth surface. Freckles were dusted down the curve of Jensen's shoulders and along the sharp cut of his hips, like cinnamon over a dab of vanilla ice cream, contrasting with the creamy skin and highlighting its slightly golden color. 

They both stared for the duration of a single heartbeat, Jensen's eyes skating down Jared's neck and down to where the lines of ink vanished beneath the collar of the way-too-big muscle shirt, and Jared openly gazing at Jensen's bare chest, the glimpse of dusty pink around his nipples. Of course, that was when Jared's stomach growled, loud and clear, signaling the empty pit that churned inside and demanded to be filled. 

Jensen barked out a laugh. “That was one hell of a growl there, dude. Are you hungry?” 

Blushing furiously at the notion and feeling like he had been caught in the middle of a heinous act, Jared ducked his head with a nod. 

“Wait, did you eat at all today? Or did you just live off black coffee and what little sugar I had left to put in it?” Jensen asked incredulously, suddenly wide awake. He didn't push the subject of the nightmare, didn't demand any explanations and Jared was grateful for it, his fingers still trembling at the memory and with the fear that a single word could summon the horror again. 

“I ate something at a soup kitchen,” he choked out with his voice still raw and broken in his throat. It felt like he had recently swallowed a bunch of needles, and he managed to conceal the quiet little mewl that climbed out of his chest with a cough. 

Jensen's face fell. “Some soup at some soup kitchen you say? Man, that's not even remotely enough for a young, skinny thing like you,” he replied thoughtfully, chewing his plush lower lip with a frown. “Fancy a midnight snack?” 

“Are you serious?” 

“Sure, Jay. C'mon, get up. I could certainly have some dessert, too. Let me get a shirt and then we'll have a feast. There should be enough pizza, pasta and ice cream left to feed your growling stomach,” Jensen laughed as he got up, walking out of the guestroom to go find his shirt and Jared shivered at the warm, smooth sound. How could he not miss this?

Staring at Jensen's bare back as the man walked away, Jared took a few deep breaths. The memory of the nightmare was still fresh, the horror still running deep inside his veins. But Jensen's firm embrace, the heat of his skin and his unyielding will had torn Jared from the claws of blank terror. After sitting in the clean, unmarred sheets for a few beats he got up, swaying on his feet. 

“C'mon Boy Wonder, or I'll eat all the mint chocolate chip ice cream alone,” Jensen yelled from the hallway. With a small smile Jared staggered towards the door, leaving behind the rumpled sheets that smelled like sour sweat and panic and following Jensen into the warm, yellow light of the living room. 

They heated everything, from pasta to pizza and fries, from crusty bread to slightly soppy but still delicious cheese sandwiches. While the oven was running they piled ice cream and tiramisu on the coffee table and kept adding rice pudding, cold pancakes, donuts and chocolate bars from Jensen's secret stash until the tabletop was completely covered in food. Jared couldn't remember having seen so much food in one place for years and with wide eyes he joined Jensen on the sofa, only mere inches between them. 

They ate until they couldn't move and then some, so full that their stomachs bulged visibly. With a groan they threw their spoons onto the table after they were done. The TV was running quietly in the background and after a few seconds they both fell back against the cushions. 

“I've never in my life been so stuffed full of junk food,” Jared admitted quietly, smiling to himself. 

Wiggling slightly and pushing his toes under Jared's thigh, Jensen agreed with a small grunt. He had thrown a blanket over them, right where their bodies lay next to each other on the broad sofa. He didn't seem to mind the soft nudge of Jared's feet when he wrapped them around Jensen's calf. 

They fell asleep like that, limbs tentatively entangled, on opposite sides of the sofa but their bodies touching in a small, intimate way, their chests moving completely in sync as they drifted off to the sound of hail clattering against the window.


	5. Chapter 5

Morning came too soon when Jensen bolted awake with a start. Groaning he checked the time on the TV and cursed as he got up. He was about to tip-toe away when Jared stirred awake. 

“Hey, devourer of ice cream and donuts,” Jensen mumbled with a voice tight and rough from sleep. “I gotta go and see my dad for an early appointment, okay? You can get another two or three hours of sleep, I'll be back in a bit.” 

Prying one eye open and blinking into the soft, white light of the foggy morning, Jared found Jensen's face hovering only inches away from his own, much like on their first morning. Smiling, the boy nodded. “Yeah, thanks,.” 

“'S all right. I'll try to make it quick so we can go and get Harley.”

Too tired to wrap his head around the words and to fully grasp what they meant, Jared only nodded lazily and curled to his side with a yawn. 

“See you, loser,” Jensen drawled, tucking the blanket a little higher around the boy's knobby shoulders before he left with a soft snort. 

Jared awoke with a start, eyes flying to the clock on the entertainment system. Almost noon. Jensen would be here at any second to pick him up. They'd take the escalator down to the lobby and then the Camaro to the Sunnyside East Clinic in Queens, where Harley would be waiting for him. And that would be it. The undeniable truth. The end. 

Sighing, Jared sat up. He thought that would be easier, never expected the void that filled his chest when he imagined a life without Jensen in it. Without grumpy, tight-lipped Jensen who was nothing without his first mug of coffee and took forever to read the business section of every fucking newspaper in town. Without stupid nicknames and mossy-green eyes lingering on his face as they spoke. Without junk food, or any kind of food, really, and clipped words that sounded like anger but really were concern and dedication and everything _but_ anger. And without the heated gazes, without the scent of warm skin and the feeling of being safe somewhere. The feeling of being at home. 

But life hadn't been exactly a dance in the daisies for Jared up to this point and there was no use living an illusion. He had been weak enough to give in and might have fallen in love a little bit, but that didn't mean that he couldn't return to his usual bold and loud-mouthed self, right?

He got up with a sigh and, pushing the void inside his aching chest away, he rushed to the laundry room where he slipped out of the tank top and silken boxer briefs. Shimmying into his own, threadbare but at least clean clothing instead, he went through his belongs that still rested on the washer's white top: his keys, his wallet, the photos, Harley's papers and everything else. Every piece of his pathetic little life spread out in front of him, all of it fitting in just one hand. 

Skidding out of the laundry room after he had packed everything, he rushed into the guestroom to smooth out the sheets and fluff up the pillows, though he didn't waste a glance back after he was done. It was too easy to be captured by the luxury furniture and velvet-soft linen, and with a big, hard ball forming inside his guts he walked to the office to pick up a sheet of paper and a pen he found on the desk. Bent over the living room table, he scribbled down some sentences, added the date and his signature, made a quick call from the land-line and then walked over to the ginormous window to take a long, last view of the city that spread below his feet before he had return to exactly that stage again. 

He didn't have to wait long before Jensen walked in with long strides, suitcase securely clasped in one hand and the other waving awkwardly to the boy in front of the glass wall. 

“Ya ready to go and pick up your pup?” he asked from where he stood next to the kitchen counter, his lips tugged into a bright smile. However, the cheerful look on his face faltered a bit at the sight of Jared's own clothes hanging from the boy's lean frame instead of sweatpants and a way-too-big hoodie jacket. 

Jared nodded. “Yeah, sure,” he forced out between gritted teeth and was shocked how little excitement boiled in his voice, how hollow his chest felt when the words fell out of his mouth like lead. 

Jensen didn't bother to reply and just nodded before waving for Jared to follow. They took the elevator down to the lobby and climbed into the Camaro in silence and even when they entered the traffic the air between them remained thick and heavy. Jensen never once mentioned the change in Jared's clothes and behavior and only when they were about to enter the clinic did it seem like he was about to say something. But whatever it had been, he never got to spit it out because the doors in front of them slid open and suddenly they heard barking and yipping and Jared spun around. There was Harley, on a leash dangling from Rachel's wrist, all big, sappy dog eyes and cropped yellow fur, and Jared surged forward to embrace the whining animal. 

“You're up already? Wow, look at you buddy, doing pretty fine, huh?” he mumbled into the ruff around Harley's neck as he carefully petted the unharmed flank. Harley was still a little unsteady on his three feet and didn't approve of the cast on his left front paw at all, but other than that he was still the same, still the big, dumb, happy, drooling puppy Jared had picked out of a litter of squirming bodies six years ago. Relief washed over the boy at the sound and smell of his best friend. 

“Nice to see you, too Jared,” the vet nurse remarked sarcastically as she handed the leather leash over to Jared. “Dr. Collins will be here in a sec, please have a seat in the waiting room.” 

Jared blinked up at the woman as if he was only now noticing her. “Yeah, um, thank you, I guess.” 

“You're welcome, puppy,” Rachel replied, rolling her eyes with a small smile and waving him goodbye before she took off to the surgery room. 

The rest of the procedure was just formalities. Dr. Collins appeared with an armful of drugs and actually took the time to explain every single one of them. He handed them over with a sheet of paper on which he had noted down the routine and an appointment for next week to check the stitches and change the bandages. He gave Jared his private emergency number and after shaking both their hands he slipped Jensen a clipboard with the bill. 

Signing quickly, Jensen fished a fat bundle of money out of the inner pocket in his coat, offering it to the veterinarian with a stern look on his face. “This is more than enough to cover every possible aftercare and the cost incurred by any additional medical treatment. I expect this money to be spent well, Dr. Collins.”

The veterinarian took a second to skim through the thick bundle before he nodded. “I'm not one to disappoint, Mr. Ackles, and we won't abuse your trust in our work. I'll let the other vets know that this one is cared for,” he replied while brushing a hand over the dog's head, causing him to bark in excitement. 

“Good, that's what I like to hear. Have a good day,” Jensen spoke lowly, spinning on his heels and leaving the clinic without further ado. 

Jared turned to look at the veterinarian. “Thanks for helping us,” he said quietly as he shook Dr. Collins' warm, dry hand. “Harley would've died without your help and we won't forget that.” 

“That's my job, kiddo.” 

Jared shrugged. “Still, it's a thing. So, um, see you next week I guess. Have a nice, uh... you know the drill. Bye.” And with an awkward wave and his chest feeling like being filled with lead and a thousand spiky icicles, Jared led his hobbling dog through the door. 

Jensen was waiting for them on the sidewalk outside the clinic, one hand stuffed into his pocket and the other clinging to a cigarette. Jared had never seen Jensen smoke before and it made his stomach churn in grief as he approached the man. 

For a moment silence settled between them and nothing but the buzzing and humming of the city surrounded their bodies. Cars sped by, people pushed past them and yet the world seemed to be frozen, breathing becoming impossible in the thick, frigid air. They both could feel the tension, the cold, the tragedy unfolding on a piece of dirty concrete right in front of them and nothing had ever felt more important, more real. It was Jared who spoke first, with a voice so broken and quiet it seemed like the slightest breeze could carry the words away. 

“So, what's the damage?” he asked, searching for steadiness and safety as he clung to Harley's thick collar. “How much do I owe you?” 

Jensen shrugged. “Jared, I really don't wanna—“

“How much do I owe you?” Jared repeated pointedly. 

Growling, Jensen flipped the butt of his cigarette away and wretched the bill out of his pocket, pushing it into Jared's face. “There, you pain-in-the-ass punk-ass nerd.” 

Jared's mind reeled at the gargantuan number in front of him and couldn't help the gasp that escaped his throat. He was doomed, so fucking screwed. He would never, ever be able to pay that shit back. But damn him if he wouldn't at least try, and with a frown he pulled his own sheet of paper and a pen out of the back pocket of his jeans. Using a lamp post as a desk, he filled the blank between his words with the numbers and then handed it to Jensen. 

The man scoffed. “And what would that be?” 

“It's a contract. My contract, _our_ contract. See? I put it all in, my name, Harley's name, the final sum and my signature under today's date.”

“That's not your full name.”

Jared snorted. “It'll do. Look, I wrote down the conditions here. I'll pay in the beginning of every new month until the deed is done and we're clear.” 

“And how exactly are you going to do it? Bank transfer? Credit card? Debit? What do you have in mind,” Jensen asked with a biting sarcasm to his tone, his eyes still drawn to the hastily scribbled-down words. 

Blushing, Jared ducked his head to hide behind a curtain of thick, shaggy bangs. “I dunno, I'll... probably just put it in an envelope and slip it in your mailbox, I guess?” 

Jensen shook his head. “Jared this is nuts and you know it. Look at you, look at your dog. You barely survived November, how are you two yahoos going to get through the entire winter? This is fucking New York City; you'll either starve or freeze to death. For crying out loud, your pants have more holes than the president's cabinet and you left your stupid beanie on my sofa. There's no need to play the hero her.”

Pouting, Jared squared his shoulders. “I'm very good at living on my own, thank you very much. It's not like it's my first winter in the city and it sure as hell ain't gonna be my last.” 

“What about Harley then? He's injured, he needs a safe and warm place to get better.”

“Yeah? And where would that be?” Jared scoffed, voice suddenly agitated and brimming with bitterness. 

The look on Jensen's face was soft and unguarded as he stepped a little closer, bringing their heaving chests together. “You could... you could come with me, Jay. Just for a little longer. Only you and me and Harley.” 

Jared almost melted at the quiet proposal and he could feel his resistance crumble. Taking a deep inhale he took it all in: the carelessly scattered freckles across the bridge of Jensen's nose which softened his stern face, those soft lips that managed to set off his cool demeanor, the reddish-gold scruff down his cheeks and the stiff collar of his coat. 

“I'm sorry, Jensen, but I can't,” he whispered then, heart thrumming in his throat and tears welling in the corners of his eyes. “It's okay though, I'll be safe. Dani offered to let me stay at the shelter until Harley is feeling better and I'll take her up on it.”

Jensen didn't protest, didn't ask again, and just nodded slowly instead. “Then let me at least drive you two to the shelter,” he replied, with a voice so small it made Jared wince. There was a sadness settling in Jensen's eyes that made him look incredibly young.

“No, it's fine. I called Julie earlier, she'll pick me up in a few minutes,” Jared explained and gulped around the lump in his throat, swallowed tears and grief and all those words that lay on his tongue, unspoken, unacknowledged and yet written all over his face. 

Jensen huffed out a breath. “So I guess this is goodbye then,” he murmured, pushing both hands into his coat. 

“Yeah, I guess.” 

“You still got my number, right?” 

Jared felt his lips curl into a sad little smile. “Yeah, still got it.”

“All right, call me if... you know, one of you gets run over again,” Jensen suggested and for a second it looked like he might lean in, his lips so close to Jared's. But then someone honked and Jared turned to see Julie's old Ford pulling into the parking lot. 

“I gotta go,” he breathed. “I gotta go. I'll... Thank you Jensen, thanks for everything. I—goodbye.” And without daring to spare another glance over his shoulder, Jared walked Harley out on the street and towards the waiting car. He didn't cry, didn't sob, but inside him something broke and it felt like nothing could ever fix it again. 

 ♦ 

Time went on and Jared found out that the world didn't stop spinning when he left Jensen on a snowy Thursday on the sidewalk in front of the veterinary clinic. Instead life went on as he knew it, just a little more comfortable within the confines of the shelter. It was far from cozy, and sleeping on an old mattress in the tiny back room behind the office made Jared's back moan with soreness, but it was warm and Harley enjoyed the company of the other dogs. Jared took extra shifts to repay the shelter for letting him stay there and for the water he used for showering, and after a week of scooping up poop and making coffee and brushing all sorts of fur he felt almost normal, though the void inside his chest never really subsided. He managed to push the memories away throughout the day, kept himself busy at all costs, but at night the loneliness crept up on him and he found himself thinking about ginger scruff and golden skin over the bulk of a wide chest more often than he would dare to admit. His nightmares were fueled by the haunting image of Harley's shattered body and the complete absence of warm, sure hands on his shoulders, and most mornings Jared awoke with a start, struggling for breath and his skin clammy with sour sweat. He clung to the day's routine and his colleagues' chipper laughter like a drowning man clutching for a raft and yet kept his distance, afraid of getting too attached while the emotions were still raw and stirred in his veins, curling and waving with the memories Jared carried. 

Twelve days after Jared had refused to watch Jensen's silhouette fade in the dirty rear view mirror of Julie's old Ford, Jared was alone in the kennel quarter. He busied himself with refilling the water bowl of a big, white Japanese Akita, when the little bell at the counter rang. Glancing at his watch with furrowed brows, he put the scoop and bottles away, gave the dog a short scratch behind the ears and left the kennel. With Genevieve and Julie gone since three in the afternoon and Danneel hiding in her office, getting ready for a date, Jared was the only one left on duty, and though he felt out of place with his ragged sweater and worn-soft sweatpants, he trudged towards the door that separated the kennels from the entrance room. Pushing it open, his vision went momentarily white from the sudden burst of bright overhead light, and without even looking continued through the door. 

“Hello, nice to see you. Are you here to—“ 

Cutting himself off mid-sentence, Jared stopped in his tracks and froze. He managed a slow blink and something stirred behind his lungs, his heart swelling until it felt too big for his chest. And though his stomach fluttered with a gazillion butterflies and he could feel his toes curling in his sneakers, he remained rooted to the spot, gaping, blinking, his pulse sky-rocketing and a lump the size of Texas forming in his throat. 

“Heya nerd,” Jensen muttered softly from where he stood on the threshold, hands in the pockets of his stupid winter coat, his shoes neatly tied and with a stupid smile plastered across his face. 

It seemed like something inside Jared snapped at the words and all the resolve he had vanished into thin air. Every thought flew out of the window until the only thing left was the small, breathless “Jensen,” he gasped out as he overcame the distance between them with not so much as a jump, surging into Jensen's space. Flying into the man's arms, Jared hands came up to cup a pair of scruffy, freckled cheeks with a soft sigh. His eyes fluttering shut, he pressed his lips against Jensen's mouth in a rushed, blustering kiss, hot air and flushed skin translating a silent confession in an effortless way.

It hadn't even been a conscious decision and he didn't remember thinking about it in the first place. But seeing Jensen again, feeling his body move against his, drowning in his scent, it all had felt too real, too good to be true and pushing his mouth against Jensen's had felt so natural, like the next logical step. And only when Jared felt the warm, soft press of plush lips and the brush of a nose against his own, did he remember that Jensen might not be into men. The thought brought Jared back like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on him. 

Gasping and with his lips still tingling from the kiss, Jared stumbled back, hazel eyes wide and panic bubbling up in his chest. “I-I'm sorry Jensen, I didn't mean to... I don't know why I did that. I'm sorry. You're probably not even gay and I'm just a big idiot. I'm so sorry.” 

The smile curling Jensen's lips was small and private, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement. “'Nothing to apologize for, Boy Wonder. 'S all right. Now come here again, I missed you,” he replied with a thick, low drawl. Clasping a hand around Jared's slim waist, he pulled the boy closer again until their bodies were flush. 

Jared rested his face against Jensen's shoulder and they cradled each other in a firm hold. For a while Jared did nothing but breathe, taking big gulps of air and Jensen's fresh, earthy scent until he got dizzy with the smell and the sensation of Jensen's hands skimming up and down his spine, one thumb resting in the nape of his neck and his broad chest heaving against Jared's. 

“I missed you, too, Jensen,” Jared snuffled and smiled into the cashmere of the man's coat. Saying Jensen's name, tasting it on every inch of his tongue like a rich, luxury dessert, was more than Jared had ever dared to hope for again and yet they were standing in the shelter's small entrance area, clinging to each other for dear life and sharing the same, close space, touching each other. 

Jensen chuckled. “I'm sorry then it took me forever to find you. Did you know that New York City has approximately one hundred and fifty animal shelters?” 

Jared's hands were buried in thick brown hair and his eyes were closed against the warm, tantalizing skin of Jensen's neck and replied with a breathy “no.” He was about to say something else, something along the lines of “sorry that I'm such an ass and didn't tell you shit when I left you a week ago,” when a sudden voice from behind the counter interrupted their privacy. 

“Um, Jared? Would you like to introduce your new... friend?” Danneel asked, voice slightly alarmed. She wasn't used to tall, handsome guests in luxury coats strolling into her animal shelter three minutes before closing and hugging her employees. 

Untangling himself from Jensen, Jared turned around with a smile. “Relax, Dani, it's Jensen. Jensen, this is Danneel, she runs the place.” 

Jensen didn't seem to be inclined to let go of Jared's skinny form just yet and settled on a small nod in greeting. “Hey there,” he muttered, waving curtly. 

Danneel arched one perfectly plucked eyebrow. “Jensen Ackles? _The_ Jensen Ackles?” 

“In the flesh.”

“Wow, it's good to see you then. Jared has been walking around like a lovesick puppy since you two geniuses figured it would be better to go your separate ways.” 

Jared felt his stomach plummet and with a gasp he wriggled out of Jensen's grip before stalking towards the counter. “Dani, would you please shut up?” he ground out between gritted teeth, blushing furiously. 

“Well honey, I'm just telling the truth here. You're worse than all our male dogs when mating season starts with all the pining and big, teary puppy eyes,” Danneel chattered on while applying a layer of bright red lipstick to her mouth. Apparently she was completely oblivious to Jared's distress. 

“Dani–“ Jared warned, ignoring Jensen's obnoxious chuckle. 

Stashing her make-up in her tiny purse, Danneel looked up. “Jared, I love you, I really do. But that's not a way to live. So please, Jensen, do us all a favor and propose to this pup already. He's a keeper, he'll make you happy. I promise.” 

And just like that she slipped into her coat and with a chipper smile and a wave of her hand she was out of the room, off to meet her mysterious blind date. 

Blushing furiously and feeling a little sick to his stomach, Jared turned from where he stood by the counter to watch Jensen from behind a curtain of curly bangs. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Dani's great, just kind of a dick sometimes. She didn't mean any harm.”

“No offense taken,” Jensen replied and joined Jared at the counter, watching him closely. “Remind me to thank her one day for making you blush; you look really cute like that.” 

Jared rolled his eyes. “Stop it with the sweet-talk, Rich Kid. I've got work to do.” 

Grabbing the keys from a hook behind the counter, Jared locked the front door and after double-checking the bolts he trailed back to the kennel quarter, only stopping to shoot Jensen a wink and a “you coming?” 

They spent the evening together, both of them relishing the comfortable closeness and lighthearted mood after almost two weeks of silence. Jared still had five more kennels to clean, and while he was busy scooping, he instructed Jensen on cleaning the water bowls and introducing him to the dogs as he did so. Harley came from the backroom to greet Jensen with a bark and furious tail wagging and after almost an hour of working and bumping deliberately into each other whenever possible, they settled onto the floor between the kennels. Jared had brought dog treats from the office and together they shared them between the twelve whining dogs that curled around them, yipping and crawling closer for cuddles and ear scratches. Jensen didn't seem to mind the loud, excited pack and Jared took immense pleasure from seeing the man surrounded by so much fur and dust and so many wet muzzles. 

During working together, Jensen had eventually slipped out of his coat and suit jacket and now that he was cornered between Harley's bulk and a lapful of squirming Chihuahua, he had rolled up the sleeves of his button-down. Sweat clung to his brow and Jared could see a sliver of smooth, honeyed skin through the open top two buttons of his shirt. Shivering, he moved a little closer to Jensen and let their knees brush lightly as they settled against the wall, talking quietly about Harley and the clinic and Jensen's work and the weather and everything except that Jensen had to leave eventually. 

But time was a cruel mistress and when the clock struck midnight they put each dog back into their kennel and Jensen grabbed his coat with a sigh. 

“I better be off,” he mumbled lowly. He didn't look like he wanted to go though, and Jared was half-tempted to invite him to stay before he remembered that he had nothing to share but a moldy mattress and a ragged sleeping bag. 

So he only huffed out a hollow “yeah,” and walked Jensen to the back door, leaning into the frame as Jensen stepped out into the frigid darkness. 

“You gonna be okay, Jay?”

Nodding, Jared licked his lips. His eyes were big, pupils blown and inky, and the tips of his fingers tingled with the urge to reach out and rub across the delicious stubble along Jensen's jawline. His lips felt hot and puffy and so needy to be kissed and ravished by a skilled mouth. 

Jensen seemed to read his mind, for he stepped a little closer again. “Do you want me to kiss you, nerd?” 

“Yeah, I'd like that,” Jared wheezed and blushed at the soft, quiet moan that climbed out of his chest when he felt Jensen's hands cupping his face. 

“Good,” Jensen drawled, so very close now, his lashes like spun gold up close. “'Cause I've been wanting to do this for so long.” And just like that he touched his mouth against Jared's, a press of warm, soft lips and a wet swipe of tongue making the boy shiver. 

Trailing the tip of his tongue along the seam of Jared's lips, Jensen licked his way inside Jared's mouth in hot, languid swipes. He easily caught the tiny, trembling moans that fell from Jared's lips and drank them like they were honey, swallowed them as he swirled his tongue around Jared's, slick flesh clasping around each other until their lungs ached for air. Panting, they pulled apart and Jared barely gave them enough time to suck in a sharp breath before he surged forward again, latching his mouth onto Jensen's until their lips slotted together and the soft, slick press of Jensen's tongue made the boy's cock stir inside his pants. Jensen kissed the way only men kissed: broad and bold and penetrative as soon as they can manage it, without hesitation or restraint.

“Easy,” Jensen gasped after another messy kiss as he brushed his thumbs across Jared's cheeks. Leaning in some more, he steadied Jared's quivering limbs with the weight of his body. “We better stop here or I'll probably end up staying for the rest of the night.”

Jared felt a wave of hot want coiling around the base of his spine at that, slowly eating away at his sanity. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, baby. I'd make you come all night and you'd get jack done in the morning.” 

Moaning softly in the back of his throat, Jared nodded. “Yeah, you'd probably do that. Though I can't say I'm exactly repelled by that idea.” 

Jensen huffed out his small, private laugh and Jared felt himself relax, tension bleeding out of his rigid body. He was still half-hard in his pants and felt needy and hot, but the tautness seeped out of his muscles and he leaned into the comfort that Jensen's body offered. 

“I better go, Jared,” Jensen mumbled into the boy's shaggy hair as he hugged him once more. Jared nodded, giggling when he felt Jensen's wet lips trailing a row of soft kisses down his jawline before he let go with a sigh. 

“Night, Jen.”

“Good night, Jared. Take care.” And with a last chaste kiss on Jared's tingling, swollen lips, Jensen walked out into the darkness, leaving a grinning Jared behind. 


	6. Chapter 6

Jensen came back the next day and the day after that. Slipping in mere minutes before closing time, he joined Jared while he worked around the kennels. Everyday the pack greeted him with loud howling and barking. Not once did he ever hesitate in assisting Jared and together their worked from kennel to kennel, laughing and joking all the way, bumping their hips together and brushing hands and shoulders.

Talking to Jensen was easy and Jared was eager to explain the shelter's hierarchy to Jensen, not even leaving out the small details. Jensen was a good, patient listener and by the end of the week he knew the name of every dog and cat. He knew what tail waggling meant, could identify a few different breeds, and had memorized the daily routine they followed from day to day. He worked tirelessly next to Jared with sweat pooling between his collarbones and his costly, white button-downs covered in dog snot.

Every day their goodbye kisses got more feverish and every day it took them a little longer to let go. After finishing the chores, they spent an increasing amount of time making out on the tiled floor, Jared practically sitting in Jensen's lap and rutting against him while he fucked his tongue in and out of Jensen's wet mouth. Hands roaming and desperately yanking at each other's dirt-stained clothes, they got dangerously close to blowing their loads within the tight confines of their boxer briefs more than once, and leaving Jared at the end of a long day became an increasing issue for Jensen. Especially since Jared had proven to own not only a smart mouth and quick wits, but also a clever tongue and the ability to set Jensen on the edge with nothing but small, desperate moans and the soft sighs that fell from his pink, shiny lips.

There was something incredibly intimate about the way they explored each other in the shelter's yellow half-light, hands shoved beneath clammy fabric, desperately seeking out warm, smooth skin and lips fused together as they breathed in unison, grinding and rocking into each other with abandon. And while Jared found the scent of Jensen's skin intoxicating and irresistible, Jensen couldn't seem to get enough of Jared's mouth, the feel of his lips and the soft brush of his chestnut hair against his hands. Threading thick, warm fingers through the disheveled strands, he kept licking and sucking into Jared's mouth, sighing and thrusting upward into the warmth of Jared's crotch.

And when now and then Jensen didn't manage to appear on the threshold in time, Jared felt miserable and cranky until he heard a soft knock on the back door. In such a short time, Jensen had become such an integral part of Jared's life and it was a little bit frightening when Jared thought about it in the long, lonely nights on the mattress in the shelter's storage room. He knew it was dangerous, pathetic, irrational and probably the most stupid thing he'd ever done, but it felt so good to fly into Jensen's open arms after a long day of walking the dogs in the cold or cleaning metal bunks for the cats. It felt too good to let go and Jared decided that he could enjoy this a little longer. Whatever _this_ was.

Sometimes Jensen brought take-out from the Chinese restaurant down the street or pizza from their favorite place. Sometimes he asked Jared if he wanted to cook with him again back at his place, and though Jared felt a hot, exciting thrill flaring through him at the thought, he quietly refused and kissed Jensen afterward on his mouth, down his neck, below his throat. Because even if things felt good and right for the first time in years, Jared couldn't forget about his debt. And though neither of them mentioned it, he handed Jensen his first payment on the 6th of December.

“So, what's your plan for the holidays?” Jensen asked three days before Christmas. They had finished early today and were now busy inhaling the entirety of a greasy cheese pizza, Jared's legs casually resting in Jensen's lap. The blanket they were sitting on was warm and soft and made sitting on the floor a little easier, giving them at least the illusion of comfort. Danneel, ever the good friend, had more than once offered to let them use the old, cozy sofa in the office to sit on, but Jared felt like an intruder even thinking about it and Jensen was content with whatever Jared decided for the two of them.

Furrowing his brow, Jared swallowed around a mouthful of molten cheese. “Uh, probably scooping up Kumo's mess.”

“Wait what? You're gonna spend your Christmas Eve in the shelter, doing chores?” Jensen asked incredulously, stopping his slice in mid-air.

“Well, duh,” Jared replied. “Someone has to do it and I'm... around. I live in the storage room, you know, which is convenient enough for Danneel to put me on duty during the holidays. Besides, everyone else has family. Danneel has her daughter and part-time boyfriend and Julie and Genevieve... uh, I think they have a thing.”

Jensen's eyes narrowed. “But it's Christmas, Jared.”

“Don't be such a sap Jensen, it's just a day like every other. And I like my job; it's rewarding and with the dogs around I won't feel lonely.”

“You sure?”

Popping the last bit of pizza into his mouth, Jared pushed the cardboard box out of the way and climbed into Jensen's lap with a smile. “Yeah, I'm a big boy. It's going to be okay.”

He leaned in, glad that Jensen didn't object any further, and their lips met in a slick, messy kiss, tasting like warmth and pizza and spicy cheese. Swiping his tongue into Jensen's mouth, Jared slid his hands into the man's slicked back hair, giving a little tug.

“Little minx,” Jensen muttered into the kiss and tiled his head, slotting their lips together to keep in all those sweet little sighs Jared spilled into his mouth. They changed the pace into a slow, languid rhythm, their tongues sliding along each other, tasting, touching, sucking on warm, tender flesh until they were both panting and their cheeks flushed with heat.

Moaning softly, Jared let his eyelashes lower at the feeling of sure, warm hands clasping around his waist, steadying him, and while he licked greedily along the plush flesh of Jensen's lower lip he set a leisurely pace as he started rocking against the bulge in Jensen's pants.

Kissing Jensen was like flying, only better, more exciting, fucking arousing. His mouth was warm, his lips soft and responsive and the look on his face captivating, so damn vulnerable and unguarded and nothing like the big, bad CEO he sometimes pretended to be. Jared whimpered as Jensen traced his warm, full lips down the length of Jared's jawline. Peppering the smooth, tan skin with wet, open-mouthed kisses, he followed the long expanse of Jared's neck down to the column of his throat. He took his time sucking a purple bruise into the baby-soft skin in the hollow right below the boy's throat, pulling a string of soft little moans of Jared's chest, and suddenly brushing their cocks together through layers of cloth wasn't enough anymore.

Pulling Jared closer to his chest, Jensen fell back against the wall with a small grunt, his hands instantly skimming down the boy's flanks just to slip beneath his shirt to grab a handful of smooth, warm skin as their kisses became messier, wetter and filthier.

“Jensen,” Jared moaned as he let go of the man's mouth, grinding his cock down on the visible bulge in Jensen's jeans. It was ridiculous how turned on they were, how much they wanted this, how impatient they had grown.

Thrusting up and against Jared's slim body, Jensen felt his eyes roll back into his skull at the feeling of the boy's hot length pressing down on his own twitching cock and the sensation of warm fingers flying up to fist in his hair, pulling him towards a hungry mouth with slick, pink lips. After two minutes of silent grinding and pulling, thrusting and uncoordinated rutting, their cheeks were flushed with exertion, Jensen's eyes never leaving Jared's face.

Jared was fucking amazing; sweet and responsive, loud, impulsive, smart and just as desperate for what they were about to do as Jensen himself. The boy really wanted this, wanted _him_ , and in a rush of need and hunger, Jensen ripped the button of Jared's jeans open before yanking the zipper down and going for his boxers. They were soaked with pre-come right where the fabric stuck to the tip of Jared's cock and Jensen got instantly harder in the tight confines of his own boxer briefs as he felt hot, hard flesh under his fingers.

“Fuck, Jared,” he moaned into the boy's skin, mouthing at the juncture of Jared's neck and shoulders, right where a patch of ink bloomed. There was something about that smooth, tan skin, dotted with moles and flushed bright pink under a thin sheen of sweat. Maybe it was how easily it yielded to Jensen's every touch, maybe it was because it smelled like cinnamon and cloves, but whatever it was, it left Jensen hard and wanting and with a groan he unbuckled his belt, never stopping his desperate thrusts against Jared's warm body.

Both of them hissed out in pleasure as their cocks touched for the first time without the annoying layers of fabric between them. Their skin was hot and sticky and when Jared tilted his hips to grind down again, it made them both see stars, white-hot pleasure sparking in the dip of their spines as their cocks slid along each other, every brush of flesh against flesh a sweet promise of release.

With a groan, Jensen brought their lips together, kissing Jared filthily, sucking on his tongue until Jared spilled another rush of sweet, little moans into Jensen's mouth. Panting, they separated again, and with their bodies quivering against each other and Jared's fingers pulling and tugging at Jensen's thick hair until his scalp tingled with dull pain, they kept fell into a hot, messy rhythm.

“Jen—hm, I think I'm gonna... I'm gonna—“ Jared crooned before being cut off by a languid kiss, Jensen fucking his tongue into the boy's mouth in sync with the frantic movements that brushed their cocks together, slick skin rubbing and thrusting against hot flesh as the tips of their rosy cocks spilled more pre-come onto Jensen's crisp white button-down.

Jared didn't last long and after grinding into Jensen a few more times, he came with a drawn-out moan, the look on his face utterly blissful as he shot hot ropes of come all across Jensen's shirt, soaking it with tacky liquid. Writhing, Jared let his orgasm tear through him and was pleased as he heard Jensen follow shortly after, his hips bucking up into Jared, their cocks feeling hot and raw and spent as they lay trapped between their slowly stilling bodies.

“Wow, that was... _wow,_ ” Jared murmured into the crook of Jensen's neck as he found the strength to use his voice again, his head falling against the man's shoulder while his mouth felt oddly empty without the man's tongue inside.

Snorting, Jensen wiggled until he found a more comfortable position. “What did you expect, Boy Wonder?”

Jared didn't even dignify that with a reply and instead let himself be cradled in the man's warm grip, his body still quivering and tingling from the mind-blowing orgasm. His hands rested against Jensen's chest now, feeling the thick muscles and the rapid, stuttering heartbeat underneath. They stayed like that for quite some time until their breath labored and their sore muscles started to protest against the awkward position. Hauling Jared from his lap and tucking his spent, soft cock back into his boxers, Jensen stretched his limbs with a blissful moan.

“Wow, you're old,” Jared commented as he fixed himself up, carelessly wiping his spunk on his shirt and jeans.

“Yeah and you're fucking gross,” Jensen replied, wrinkling his nose. He looked utterly debauched, fucked-out, with his lips red and swollen from kissing, his usually neatly slicked back hair a disheveled mess and every freckle a stark contrast against the flushed skin on his cheeks.

Laughing, Jared got up to get the man some tissues and a bottle of water from the staff fridge in the office. He found Jensen slipping on his coat when he returned.

“Oh, you heading out already?”

Jensen turned around, a sad smile curling his lips. “Yeah, gotta go and see my dad in the early morning. And, um, I got more bad news: I can't come tomorrow. Schedule is crammed and afterward I gotta go Christmas shopping with my sister.”

Jared nodded as he walked Jensen towards the back door, unlocking it. “'S okay, I'll find another filthy-rich guy with a pretty face to make out with between the kennels of New York's smallest animal shelter.”

“You think I'm pretty?” Jensen replied, cupping the boy's face to press a warm, soft kiss on his mouth.

“Oh shut up, Jensen. Your jokes are terrible.”

“You love 'em.”

“Yeah,” Jared breathed between the tickling press of lips against his bruised mouth. “And now go before you break my heart with that puppy face.”

Jensen huffed out a laugh at that and bent down for a last flick of his tongue against Jared's mouth before he turned to walk away, hands stuffed in the pockets of his coat and head ducked against the heavy snowfall.

 ♦ 

The days before Christmas turned out to be less busy than Jared had initially anticipated. People came and went: some brought new patients, others just looked around, too few decided to take a new family member home. And still Jared felt exhausted and worn-out when he closed the shelter's front door on the 24th of December. Julie and Genevieve had left half an hour ago with big smiles plastered across their faces and their pinkies loosely linked together. Both had kissed and hugged Jared, wishing him a Merry Christmas and leaving a box of Christmas cookies and a brand new pair of knitted gloves on the boy's mattress in the storage room. Danneel was still in her office, sorting through a pile of paperwork and making a few final phone calls before the holidays. She had been chipper all day and came strolling into the food storage room just as Jared finished organizing the copious amounts of donated animal food they had received over the past week.

“That's it, Jay. I'm all settled for the holidays and so is the shelter. Are you sure you gonna be all right?” Dani asked politely, watching the bags full of dog chow with bright eyes.

Jared nodded, a smile curling his lips. “Sure, Dani. I'm good,” he replied, gladly accepting the bone-crushing hug his boss wrapped him in before setting out.

“Take care, honey, okay?” she mumbled into his hair, squeezing him tight as she rose to her tiptoes in front of him to press a warm, soft kiss on his cheek.

Jared nodded and after another hug Danneel waved him goodbye with a smile, leaving Jared in a cloud of sweet perfume and with a pleasant warmth spreading in his belly. He didn't mind spending Christmas alone and though his heart clenched painfully at the memory of Jensen, who he hadn't seen in more than two days now, he was optimistic. And it wasn't too bad, was it? He had a roof over his head, a mattress to sleep on and a box of cookies waiting for him to be devoured. Danneel had left sandwiches and a bottle of eggnog in her office and there was a bunch of cheap groceries in the staff fridge. And on top of that, Harley had made good progress and Dr. Collins had praised his stitches when they had gone to see him the day before. Things were good, even great, and Jared decided to finish work before settling in for sandwiches and the mandatory Christmas movie marathon in front of the crackling TV in Danneel's office.

The chores took longer than expected and the clock behind the counter was striking half past ten when Jared finally put the scoop and broom away. They had gotten a litter of kittens in the morning and the tiny balls of fur had made a mess in their box, big enough to keep Jared busy for almost an entire hour. Now every dog was fed and provided with fresh water and a treat. They had all gotten a new toy and been arranged into groups of three or four. Most of them were lying around, lazily chewing on their gifts or grooming each other after being separated for far too long. Jared had taken the time to change every cat's litter box, had petted and scratched more furry chins that he could find and now he felt sweaty and gross, the stench of the kitten's mess clinging to his skin.

With a sigh he decided against his initial plan and went for a shower instead. The bathroom in the back of the shelter was big and spacious and made to contain a whole pack of dirt-stained dogs. The water never got really warm and the tiles were moldy, but it was good enough. After rinsing the soap suds out of his hair and from his skin, Jared slipped into his only pair of clean, whole jeans—a generous gift from one of Danneel's admirers who had left it on her sofa after a night full of hot, wild sex as she described it—and a shirt. He rummaged in his backpack until he found the flannel Jensen had brought back to him that day at the feeding station before finally leaving for the office. He didn't even try to brush his wet hair; it was a lost cause anyway.

The door to the office was ajar and Harley was already waiting for Jared on the sofa. He looked good. His fur had started to regrow and the cast on his front paw was smaller and less heavy than the first one. He had gained back some of the weight he'd lost throughout his time in the clinic and had returned to his usual brilliant, happy self only three hours after they'd left the hospital. His tail started wagging as soon as he noticed Jared in the door frame and with a yawn he shuffled to the side, making room for Jared's lanky frame as the boy flopped down onto the sofa.

“Whatcha sayin', buddy? Eggnog and sandwiches and the Grinch?”

Harley yipped.

“That's what I thought,” Jared huffed, reaching over to pet the dog's muzzle before settling into the worn cushions of the small sofa, turning on the TV and breaking the turkey and bacon sandwich in half to share it. Fair was fair.

They made it halfway through the movie before Harley demanded to be let into Jared's lap. Nudging and pushing, he came closer and didn't stop until Jared was completely blanketed by the dog's heavy muscles. It was a pleasant weight, comforting and warm, and it reminded Jared of how he wasn't alone at all, and that it was okay to be a little sad and wistful whenever his thoughts flew out of the window and to where Jensen was probably spending his holidays with his family and friends. Harley's quiet presence held a secret promise that he wasn't going anywhere, and Jared felt the ache inside his chest still at the thought. He was okay, and not even the stuttering beat of his wasted heart could persuade him into thinking otherwise.

They finished the movie and were already halfway through the next when Harley started squirming in Jared's lap.

“What's up, dude? You're gonna crush me, stop it. What is it? You gotta pee?” Jared asked as he watched the dog clumsily get up and off the sofa. Harley's movements were still a little bit stiff and the muscles around his shoulder sore, but he managed to climb down without falling and now that he stood Jared watched him raise his head warily. Listening into the darkness outside the windows and the snow that was slowly falling out of the cotton-wool clouds, Harley's ear perked up.

“Okay then, buddy. Let's get you out and give the other rascals another round of beef jerky; pretty sure they're hungry again already,” Jared announced and got up to bring his dog into the yard, grabbing a bag of dog treats from the shelf as he walked past.

It was almost midnight and in the dim light of the kennel quarter it was hard to see. But the entire pack shot awake as soon as Harley walked in and Jared barely managed to unlock and open the backdoor to the yard before they started howling and yipping.

Jared sprung for another round of dog treats and took his time to pet and fondle every muzzle, kissing more wet noses than he could count. The dogs were happy and grateful and Jared was satisfied to see them sharing their treats with each other, acting like a real pack. A short glance into the cat room showed that most of them were asleep or lying huddled together on top of the scratching posts. They were okay.

Returning into the kennel area, Jared stepped into the doorway. “Dude, what's taking you so long?” he yelled into the frigid darkness of the backyard, a keen breeze howling through the fences. The world outside had fallen silent and a sudden, sharp knock on the front door startled Jared, his heart sinking in his chest. Abandoning Harley, who was probably still shuffling around in the powdery snow on his quest for the perfect place to take a shit, Jared walked wearily down the alley between the kennels and into the entrance area. Please don't let it be an emergency, Jared pleaded silently and was about to say something when another knock interrupted his train of thought, the insistent rapping on the door accompanied by a voice.

A familiar one. “Jared? Are you there? It's me, Jensen.”

For a single beat Jared felt like the rug had been pulled out from under him and he had a hard time focusing on breathing and functioning. Then his heart kicked to life, the mere sound of Jensen's voice ratcheting Jared's pulse up a notch.

Fumbling with the lock and door knob, Jared felt his hands shaken by the same shivers that coiled down his spine. It took him a few seconds to unlock and open the solid wooden door before he got to take a look at Jensen. Jensen, who was standing in the snow with his hair slicked back and his eyes bright and his jeans too casual above the neatly-tied leather shoes.

“Jensen? What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be spending time with your gazillion cousins?” Jared gasped, needing a moment to tear his eyes away from the gentle curve of Jensen's mouth so his eyes could meet the man's intense gaze.

Jensen scoffed. “Yeah well, they don't appreciate me,” he snorted, clutching a brown shopping bag tighter against his flank.

“Ya think _I_ do?”

“Harley does.”

Jared couldn't bite back the laugh that bubbled up in his chest and with an almost-yip he flung himself against Jensen. Folding his long limbs around the man in the snow, Jared pushed his face into the crook of Jensen's neck until he could taste the cold, smooth skin on his lips, breathing it in.

“I think I might appreciate you a little bit,” Jared admitted then, still giggling and rubbing his entire self over Jensen's broad chest until his heart once again felt too big in his chest.

Jensen snorted out a laugh. “You gonna let me come in then, nerd?”

Nodding into the tight space below Jensen's throat, Jared stepped back to invite the late visitor in, both of them grinning from ear to ear and their cheeks tinged pink with bliss.

Jared was busy fixing the door shut again when Harley appeared in the doorway, hobbling and tail wagging and whining low in his throat at the sight of Jensen. He seemed delighted to see the man and received a quick back rub and a fond pat on the non-injured flank.

“He looks pretty good,” Jensen concluded after shrugging out of his coat. “How much longer does he have to wear the cast?”

Jared frowned. “Three more weeks at least,” Harley snuffled at that and turned around to hobble back to the kennels before he curled up on his blanket next on the end of the row. Jared gave him a pat on the head as he walked past to firmly close the backdoor. He was secretly a little grateful that Harley didn't insist on joining them in the office to take up the already limited space on the small, sunken couch. It would be a close call anyway.

When the two men stepped inside the small, cramped room, the TV was still running and the candle Jared had lit earlier flickered frantically on the desk, painting haunting shadows on the faded wallpapers.

“So this is where the fun happens?” Jensen asked into the awkward silence as he put his coat on the only hook next to a chock-full drawer.

Jared snorted. “Oh honey, if only you knew all the fun one could have here, you'd surely come down from your high horse and join the amusement.”

Setting the brown paper bag on the floor, Jensen took another scrutinizing look around the room before nodding slowly, smiling. He must had decided not to mind the towers of paperwork piled up dangerously high on the desk, the dusty window sills or the blotched floor beneath his feet, for he flopped down on the sofa with a sigh.

“Wanna show me how much exactly?” he asked with a drawl and grinning mischievously, he patted the space next to him. He still wore a crisp button-down over his soft pair of jeans, the white a stark contrast to the dark green of the cushions as he lounged casually against the backrest like he fit right in and didn't just come from a fancy-ass Christmas party up in the hills.

Shaking his head, Jared couldn't swallow the smirk that curled his lips, and with an exasperated sigh he joined the man on the couch, their bodies pressed together from shoulder to toe within the cramped confines of the mellow cushions.

The silence that stretched between them was almost awkward, neither of them knowing exactly where to go from there, and Jared was grateful when his eyes got caught on the paper bag.

“What's in the bag?” he asked bluntly, fingers toying with the remote and a loose thread on his sweatpants. He felt hot already, hot and needy, and Jensen's presence was so overwhelming.

Jensen smirked. “A gift,” he replied before he noticed Jared's alarmed face and quickly backpedaled. “It was a joke, you scaredy cat. It's a bottle of booze and some leftovers from the sushi I had on the way here. Wanna check?”

Jared had his hands on the bag before the words were out of Jensen's mouth and with wide eyes he pulled a bottle of brown liquor out of the paper. “Fireball,” he read and took his time eyeing the picture of the red, fire-breathing demon on the label before he turned the bottle and read a few of the lines written there.

“It's my favorite,” Jensen explained while taking the remote out of Jared's hand to change the channel to the ongoing _Die Hard_ marathon. “And I thought you might like it, it's whiskey with–“

“Cinnamon,” Jared cut in with his eyes going wide. “I wanna try it, though we don't have any glasses.”

Jensen shrugged. “S'fine, just take a chug out of the bottle and then hand it over, god knows I need a good, long swig of that myself.”

“Christmas with the family was that bad, huh?”

“You have no idea.”

Jared only nodded at that and uncapped the bottle. Something on the flickering TV screen exploded and the boy tried to come up with a nice toast until he just shrugged. “To us?” he proposed and with Jensen's nod he wrapped his lips around the bottle's mouth to take a short nip of the booze.

To his credit, Jared didn't cough, but he gasped and flailed when the sharp liquid burned its way down his throat. Pushing the bottle into Jensen's waiting hands, Jared needed a few seconds to regain his composure and only then did he allow himself to taste, lips smacking.

“Wow, that's really fucking cinnamon-y,” he said appreciatively as he ran his tongue along the seam of his lips. The sweet taste, the slow burn and the slightly smoky flavor went perfectly together and Jared happily accepted the bottle after Jensen had taken a long swig himself.

Jensen laughed. “Careful, Jay. It doesn't taste too bad but it'll make your head spin in no time if you keep that pace up,”

“Oh please, Jen, you sound like my grandma. Trust me, I can take a hit or two.”

Rummaging through the insides of the paper bag, Jensen pulled out a box of half-eaten sushi, a bag of french fries and a cardboard box filled with sugary donuts. “Here, have at least some of that; it'll soak up the alcohol.”

Now it was Jared's turn to laugh and he took another rather long swig while flipping Jensen off. “The old _fighting booze with grease_ trick, huh?”

“More the _I wanna see those pretty lips around something else later and don't want you to pass out early_ trick,” Jensen corrected, picking a piece of sushi from the box and popping it between his slightly reddened lips.

Jared nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, that would be a real shame,” he agreed and grabbed a handful of fries before he settled back against Jensen, back to chest and their faces wearing a matching grin.

They lapsed into comfortable silence. Despite the hot anticipation coiling around the base of his spine, Jared managed to finish the fries off completely, followed by two sugar-glazed donuts. The bottle kept wandering between their mouths and after half an hour of content chewing and drinking, Jared felt pleasantly buzzed. Warmth spread through his limbs and the way he was nestled against Jensen was inviting, tempting and felt so goddamn good.

“You want me to switch to something else?” Jensen asked into the silence after licking the sweet cinnamon liquor from his lips. The first _Die Hard_ movie had just ended and a trailer announced the second one, but Jared could care less.

“Nah, it's fine with me. I'm gotta pee anyways.” With a small shrug, Jared got up on swaying legs before staggering into the bathroom at the other end of the kennel alley. It wasn't until long that he felt longing bloom in his chest and hurrying, he finished his business and left the restroom, deliberately ignoring the curly mess his hair had become as he walked past the mirror.

When he returned to the office, Jared discovered that Jensen had settled into a more relaxed position. His legs spread and one arm slung around the backrest, he had sunken deeper into the couch, his head comfortably resting on the cushions. He looked utterly content, with that small, private smile tugging on the corners of his coral red lips. Jared almost giggled as revelation struck him of how much he'd thought about Jensen like that, brazenly slouching on the furniture with the first three buttons of his shirt popped open. The image of Jensen's legs spread like that, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol and his eyes half-lidded had almost given Jared an aneurysm and the thought of straddling those extremely cut hips made Jared's cock stir in his pants.

“Whatcha lookin' at?” Jensen's voice derailed Jared's train of thought and with a bright smile he shrugged.

“Nothin'.”

Jensen's words came out as a low drawl. “Well, why don't you come over here then, pretty boy?” he beckoned, his gaze locking with Jared's in the half-light, their pupils like dots of ink in an ocean of green and hazel.

Jared didn't need another invitation and with a thrumming heart he climbed into the man's lap. Feeling Jensen's body move against his was a thing Jared would probably never get tired of. Beneath his smooth, freckled skin he was all sleek muscles, his pecs firm and his chest broad. He had strong thighs and the bulk of his arms was quite the sight, making Jared hiss appreciatively when he ran his hands down the set of wide shoulders.

“Who are you callin' pretty, huh?” Jared mumbled as he spread his hands on Jensen's chest to feel the muscles bunch under his touch. They kissed slow and lazy, both of them relishing the feeling of soft, languid swipes of their tongues as they licked into each other's mouths, tasting cinnamon and the low burn of the whiskey.

Jensen grunted when they pulled apart again and shoved a hand into Jared's hair, the other coming to rest around the boy's slim waist. They were close now, leaving no room between their bodies for even a feather to fit.

“What else do you want me to call you? Puppy-face?”

Jared didn't even bother to dignify that with an answer and leaned in for another kiss instead, their union this time a little more messy. It drew a string of soft, eager moans out of their mouths, leaving them a little breathless when Jared dragged his slightly open mouth along Jensen's chiseled jawline, feeling the soft, golden stubble under his lips. He pressed a path of wet kisses across the sharp-cut bone and experimentally thrust his hips down, grinding into Jensen. He was rewarded with another moan and a sharp tug on his hair when he found the soft hollow just below Jensen's throat. Licking and sucking a red mark into the warm skin, Jared rocked forward again and smiled to himself when he felt Jensen's cock pressing into his belly, hard and hot and demanding. The noises they made were content, still soft and blurred by the TV's fuzzy sounds, but Jared soon grew impatient. It was frustrating—too many layers of fabric between their heated bodies—and Jared huffed out his annoyance. Leaning back, he shoved himself up again to fuse their mouths together in a frantic kiss until their lungs were too tight and lacked any oxygen.

Jensen looked like he was about to say something, but Jared shut him up with another kiss and a deliberate cant of his hips, their cocks brushing together through layers of denim, creating friction. They both hissed in pleasure and Jared started fumbling with the buttons on Jensen's shirt, his fingers shaking and lips trailing down the gentle curve of Jensen's neck. He pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses everywhere until his lips tingled and he thought he might go insane with the erratic thrusts and the frantic pace they had set already.

“Fuck Jared,” Jensen blurted out when the boy eventually finished off the buttons, and with a groan he rutted up and into Jared's crotch. Together they rid Jensen of his crisp, white shirt and after Jared had shrugged out of his sweater their bodies slammed together, pressed together so tight they had trouble breathing properly. Their kisses were honey-smooth now, silken and warm, and went along with the wide strokes of their hands, fingers skimming down slim flanks and combing through messy hair, holding on to broad shoulders and miles of smooth skin.

Jared, however, never stopped rocking into Jensen and soon the front of his sweatpants was smeared with pre-come, his cock throbbing and twitching against the hard press of Jensen's body. He was hot, like his insides had been set on fire, and there was an ache coiling with the lust he couldn't quite put his finger on. His mouth felt empty whenever they had to pull apart for a short gasp for air and Jensen's grunts sent a thrill of want through him, making him writhe and squirm in the man's lap. With Jensen spread out underneath him, Jared took the opportunity to get a thorough taste of that honeyed skin with freckles spattered all over. Sucking on the column of his neck, his collarbones, his dusky nipples, he plucked moan after moan out of Jensen's chest. Jared's hot, greedy mouth on every inch of his body seemed to fuel Jensen's naked need and he hissed when Jared licked a long, hot stripe from his bellybutton up to his throat, all the while rutting and grinding into the bulge beneath his aching cock.

It was Jensen who eventually stilled the frenetic roll of Jared's hips. Clasping a pair of strong hands around Jared's hip, he kept him steady and held on to him until the boy looked up.

“Easy, Jared,” he murmured, voice raspy and tight. “Slow down or you'll make me blow my load before we get to the fun part, Jesus fucking Christ.”

Jensen was most of the time a peaceful man who picked his words wisely and it felt like a victory when he swore around Jared like a sailor, especially when they were at it.

“Yeah, probably,” Jared replied after he'd considered Jensen's words for a second, chewing on his red, kiss-swollen lips thoughtfully. He could still taste Jensen's mouth all over his lips and with the liquor buzzing beneath his skin he decided that it was time to man up.

Jared got up in a cluster of stiffened limbs just to sit down again immediately, only this time in the space between Jensen's spread legs. Wiggling his way between the man's thick, strong thighs, he watched Jensen's pupils dilate impossibly wider.

“You sure about that?” Jensen managed to grind out, but Jared was already working his pants open with nimble fingers, his palms brushing the impressive bulge in Jensen's crotch every so often.

The button went off with a quiet pop and yanking the zipper down, Jared felt his mouth water at the sight of Jensen's cock peeking out obscenely from beneath the fabric.

“Going commando? Someone expected to get lucky tonight,” Jared assumed and smirked up at Jensen, who was watching him with half-lidded eyes. He looked utterly debauched already, his hair disheveled and a bright blush spreading down his chest. The dusky pink of his nipples was a stark contrast to the shiny wet skin and there was a tremble to his body, something Jared had never witnessed before.

Jensen's cock was long and thick and slightly curved to the right. The head was glistening with pre-come and flushed dark red.

“Beautiful,” Jared whispered as he leaned in, pressing the flat of his tongue against the underside of Jensen's cock, tracing down the vein until he lapped at the soft skin of the man's pulled-tight balls. Letting his hand fly up to curl around the quivering flank, Jared took a few moments to relish the heady scent that filled his nostrils as he pushed his face into the soft curls at the base of the hot length before licking his way up again, lips parting to wrap around the thick head.

Since Jensen hadn't exactly been vocal during their sloppy make-outs before, Jared marveled at the quiet moans and soft grunts Jensen gave now, his eyes fluttered shut and his body straining against Jared's grip. Jensen's cock was absurdly responsive, twitching at the feeling of the boy's tongue lapping at the tiny slit, jumping and trembling as Jared tentatively bobbed his head slowly up and down. Giving a shallow, careful thrust, Jensen rocked into the silken heat of Jared's mouth, shoving his cock down the boy's throat and stilling as Jared made a choked-up noise.

“Sorry, shit Jared, 'm sorry,” Jensen slurred, hands scrambling into Jared's hair to apologetically comb a set of strong, thick fingers through the wild mane.

Jared huffed out a laugh, sending a wave of cool air over Jensen's slick skin. “'S okay, Jen, I'm a big boy, I can take it,” he replied before wrapping his lips around Jensen's cock once more, swallowing hard, making Jensen's hips jerk again and causing him to fuck deeper into the hot wetness of the boy's mouth. Jared managed to breathe through his nose this time and didn't choke again. After a few scrutinizing swirls of his slick, warm tongue, they settled into a nice, slow rhythm with Jensen keeping his thrusts shallow and Jared guiding him gently, keeping him steady with two hands clamped around his hips.

They kept that pace for quite some time, nothing but the wet sounds of Jared's mouth and the noises coming from the TV disturbing the peace. Jensen's grunts had turned into small whimpers and the moans that fell from his lips were downright obscene, spurring Jared on until he doubled his efforts, slurping and swallowing around the thick cock.

“Shit Jared, you gotta—fuck, baby, you gotta stop,” Jensen slurred eventually and when Jared popped off the fat cockhead, he found Jensen panting and thrashing on the small sofa, his chest rising and falling at a rapid pace. His eyes were bright, feverish, and the force with which he pulled Jared's face up and against his lips was almost brutal, their kiss a crush of lips and teeth and hungry, hungry tongues.

“I wanna fuck you, can I fuck you? Do you fuck guys? Please say you fuck guys, Jay,” Jensen gasped as soon as they pulled apart, the hands he cupped Jared's face with trembling.

Jared moaned softly at that and leaned in for another filthy kiss before whispering “I want you to fuck me, Jensen,” grinding his ass down and against Jensen's exposed cock.

“God, fuck yeah,” Jensen sputtered and straightened up until he was able to push Jared from his chest and down into the cushions. Shimmying out of his jeans and socks, he reached into the paper bag and was back again seconds later, holding condoms and a small bottle of lube in his palm.

Jared did try to come up with a witty reply, but all he could see and think of was the gorgeous man kneeling over him, cock hard and shiny and lips plush from kissing.

Jensen took his time giving Jared's body the same ministrations he had received earlier, kissing him until he was stupid with it before moving down to his nipples and the soft skin down his stomach. He planted kisses down Jared's flanks, peeled sweatpants and boxers away with his teeth just to see Jared squirm and almost come all over himself. With leisurely touches, he traced the lines of spilled ink on Jared's skin and kissed the crossed colts that crested Jared's breast bone. He let his lips map out the scar along gently curved ribs and licked the smooth, silvery skin when Jared hissed at the tender touch, nuzzled the inked ace of spades in the crooked of Jared's arm. He cradled the boy's hips and licked hot, wet stripes up his leaking cock until the need to come crescendoed through Jared's body, threatening to make him lose his mind or his dignity incredibly soon.

Eventually they were both panting, their skin slick and their bodies vibrating with anticipation. The loud pop of the bottle being uncapped made Jared open his eyes and with intent he watched Jensen squirt a generous amount of lube over his fingers.

“Gotta prep you, Jay,” Jensen drawled as he sat on his haunches between Jared's legs, the boy's thighs parting automatically to make more room for Jensen's bulk.

“Yeah, fuck yeah,” Jared huffed, body resting on the cushions and hands curled into the mess of his hair.

Jensen smirked. “You look like a goddamn porn star, baby,” he mumbled and slid a finger between the boy's ass cheeks, spreading the soft flesh easily.

“Yeah?” Jared's reply came out as a hiss, but he didn't flinch away from the cold or the intruding touch and when Jensen continued to circle the puckered muscle until it was sloppy and loose, Jared relaxed on the sofa.

“Yeah baby, that's it, let me in,” Jensen praised as he felt Jared opening up, and with a moan out of both their chests he sunk in, knuckle-deep. “Doing so good.”

“Fuck Jensen,” Jared wheezed, but instead of pulling back he slammed himself all the way down on Jensen's hand, making himself jerk like he had been touched with a live wire. “Feels a-amazing.”

“Shit, Jared, you're fucking tight.”

“Then make me loose, Jen,” Jared whimpered in reply and just like that slammed down again, pushing back against the weight inside his ass and clamping down on Jensen's finger. He was moaning, so openly, so brazenly, it made Jensen's heart go crazy in the trap of his chest and with a shudder he added a second finger. Pumping in and out, he was determined to keep a slow, steady rhythm. But Jared would have none of it and instead kept fucking himself on Jensen's fingers, his hard cock slapping against the taut muscles of his stomach with every frantic thrust.

Eventually, and after Jared's whimpered pleas, Jensen added a third finger and another generous amount of lube. At that point he was so painfully hard his vision blurred and his ears were deaf to anything past Jared's small moans and the slap of slick skin against skin.

“Please Jen, I'm ready,” Jared wheezed after another couple of pushes, his eyes bright as starlight and his cheeks red with exertion. He looked fucked-out, strands of shaggy hair plastered all across his forehead. At some point he had started to suck on his fingers, moaning around them, licking their mingled sweat and pre-come from his creamy skin. Jensen thought might go insane at the sight and with every passing second it seemed to ratchet his pulse up a notch.

Pulling out and instantly grabbing Jared's trembling thighs with lube-slick fingers, Jensen pushed further into the space between the boy's legs until his cock brushed Jared's ass.

“Ready for me?” he asked as he fumbled for the condom. He tore the foil open with his teeth, and Jared never took his eyes off him.

“Yeah, fuck yeah, I'm ready. Fuck me already.”

“You sure, baby?”

Jared almost whined at that, his hips bucking uselessly into the air. “Jensen please, I'm sure. Now get that sweet cock inside my ass or I'm gonna stuff it there myself.”

Jensen huffed out a small laugh, but soon felt all the air flee from his lungs as he aligned his cock with Jared's hole, the tip resting in the boy's warmth.

“C'mon, inside me,” Jared mumbled again and pushed down, letting Jensen's cock sink in a great deal and fuck, if that doesn't felt amazing, fucking unbelievable.

“I don't wanna hurt you,” Jensen managed to grind out between gritted teeth but kept on feeding his thick cock into the velvet-heat of Jared's ass, slowly, inch by inch until he was all bottomed-out. They stayed like that for a few beats, bodies pressed together, Jared's face cradled in Jensen's warm palms and their eyes fluttered shut in utter contentment until Jared whispered “Move, please move.” Buried deep within Jared's tight ass, Jensen felt like his pulse was racing away and carefully he pulled out. He was still worried he might break Jared, might hurt him, and only when the boy huffed and pushed back down again, digging Jensen's cock into his hole, Jensen did get the message.

Together they set a maddening pace, Jensen rocking into Jared and Jared fucking himself up and down on the thick length, feeling empty whenever Jensen's pulled back. Going slow at first, they found a quicker, more erratic rhythm and soon Jensen fucked into Jared with abandon, taking his pleasure and aiming to give as much of the same as possible. One hand loosely curled around the boy's slick cock, he jacked Jared in the same pace, hell-bent on making the boy scream and writhe beneath him. And when he finally found that sweet spot—the one that made Jared see stars spark behind his closed lids—he kept at it, slamming home again and again until Jared thought he'd break under the pure onslaught of bliss careening up and down his spine.

Clutching Jared's waist with one hand, Jensen pushed himself up until the boy was almost bent in half. His eyes were wide, locked on Jared's face and he took it all in: the sweat-slick skin, the dimples that kept on popping with every moan and the pink tongue, poking out of Jared's mouth whenever he released another string of incoherent words.

When Jensen stopped to kiss him again, Jared nearly fell apart; the intimacy was careening up and down his spine, scorching lines and tattooing scars he knew he couldn't erase. The springs of the sofa creaked beneath them and the TV was still running, but neither of them could be bothered to pay any heed and while Jensen continued to fuck Jared into oblivion, Jared pushed down just as greedily, screaming for more until he finally spilled all over himself and Jensen's hand, hot ropes of come shooting out of his cock and up until they hit his chest.

“Fuck, Jared,” Jensen crooned at the feeling of warm, tacky liquid dribbling down his fingers. “Can I come inside you? Is... is it okay?”

“Yeah,” Jared managed to choke out between ragged gasps of breath and felt Jensen spilling into the condom seconds later, buried deep inside Jared and his face dropped onto the boy's chest. Lazily, he kept fucking into Jared for a few more thrust until it got to be too much, and when his hips stilled he stayed nestled between the tight, silken walls of Jared's sore ass, his hole puffy and red and leaking lube into the sofa cushions.

The silence that spread was content and filled with their heavy breathing. Jensen collapsed on top of Jared and they both huffed out a small, breathless laugh.

“You okay?” Jensen whispered into the hot skin of Jared's neck, arms coming to stroke up and down the shallowly heaving flank.

Jared nodded. “Better than good, believe me.”

“Can we stay like this for a moment?”

“Yeah, a moment. Or two,” Jared agreed and tenderly combed his long, slender fingers through Jensen's slick hair, neither of them minding the mess between them.

They stayed like that for almost half an hour, come drying between them and Jensen's soft cock still resting in Jared's hole. And when they eventually did get up, it was only to tumble into the shower together where Jensen sucked Jared's cock and slowly fucked him on three fingers until the boy spilled again under the cool spray. Jared reciprocated by blowing Jensen on the sofa an hour later when the rerun of _The Grinch_ was on and they were huddled under Jared's sleeping bag, buck naked but their skin glowing with warmth. Their kisses were lazy and leisurely that night and after another two or three shots of the burning whiskey they decided to go to bed.

“I, um, I only have a single mattress in the storage room, though,” Jared explained as they got up clumsily, shame burning on his cheeks and his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

Jensen shrugged. “And?”

“Just saying, man. It's probably not what you're used to—“

“Yeah well, I'm also not used to getting my dick sucked by a pretty awesome guy three times a day, so can it,” Jensen cut in, a sly smile on his lips.

Jared felt his brows furrow. “Three times?”

“That's one more to go I guess, Boy Wonder,”

They did a last check on the dogs before they turned off the TV. Tumbling through the door of the storage room, Jensen made Jared forget that they only had a small, moldy mattress and a clammy sleeping bag to find shelter beneath. Jared managed to wring a third orgasm out of Jensen as he tongue-fucked him, and when he crawled up again, jaw aching and lids already drooping, he didn't waste another thought on their environment as he was securely wrapped in a set of strong arms.

“Jensen?” Jared whispered into the darkness after he was nestled into the man's embrace, their bodies flush and warm against each other.

“Yeah?”

“Merry Christmas.”

Jensen snorted out a small laugh. “I can't believe you just said that, you giant sap.”

“Shut up.”


	7. Chapter 7

Waking up next to Jensen was almost as satisfying as falling asleep in his arms. With their limbs stiff from resting coiled into each other, lazy morning sex seemed to be the only considerable option and they took their time getting lost in each other. Letting his jaw drop loose, Jared took his sweet time licking Jensen open until he was all slick, open and ready for three of Jared's fingers and after getting used to the feeling Jensen rode Jared's hand like a pro. He came shouting Jared's name and clutching his shoulders, head cast back into the pillow and eyes wide open. His chest was still heaving rapidly when Jared used his hot mouth to slurp all the come from Jensen's stomach and by the time Jared had given himself a short prep, Jensen was already hard again, ready to let Jared ride him in the light of a golden Christmas morning.

Showering afterward was mandatory and they would probably have gone for another round if it hadn't been for the dogs howling and demanding their breakfast. Doing the chores had never felt so good, and though Jared was sore beyond measure, he felt pretty accomplished when he walked out of the last kennel. He was still buzzing with contentment, his heart seemingly racing away with the butterflies that sparked in his guts and his skin basking in the afterglow of too many orgasms within twenty-four hours.

“Cats are all done,” Jensen announced as he came strolling down the alley, grin still in place and wiping his hands on the jeans he had retrieved from the office earlier.

Jared nodded, beaming. “Thanks man, I owe you.”

“Oh god, not another round. Have some mercy, sweet baby.”

“Never dated a younger guy before, cowboy?”

Jensen looked like he was about to say something cocky, but the reply seemed to get stuck in his throat as a revelation struck him like lightning. His voice was gravelly when he asked “How old are you, Jared?”

“Um, why do you ask?”

“Because I wanna know if I just did something horribly illegal, idiot. So spill!”

Jared's smile wasn't as bright as it had been a minute ago, but a bit of the sudden anxiety seemed to bleed out of him at Jensen's words. “Dude, chillax. I'm twenty-three, I'm allowed to fuck your brains out by law.”

Now it was Jensen's turn to relax and with a sigh he pulled Jared in for a slow, languid kiss. “You know it's kinda disturbing that I don't know shit about you, you filthy little mutt.”

Jared snorted. “And do you know that your endearments are kinda questionable?”

They both laughed at that and melted into another kiss before pulling apart again, Jensen's expression almost guilty when he spoke again.

“Hey, it's almost ten. I should probably be on my way. It's Christmas morning, you know?”

Jared nodded sternly. “Sure thing, Jensen. No need to unpack the sad puppy look again. Your family is probably waiting for you.”

Jensen nodded. “Look, if I could have it my way it would be just you and me and the dogs all day.”

Jared's nose scrunched up. “You're a sick man, Jensen Ackles,”

“Not like that, you sick fuck,” Jensen barked out, landing a punch on Jared's shoulder. “You know what I mean, yeah? I would rather spend my holidays in a filthy shelter with you than up in the hills with... well, everyone else. But I promised to show up for the big gift exchange and—“

“Would you shut up, Ackles?” Jared scolded softly before sealing Jensen's lips with a soft, lingering kiss. “You don't have to justify yourself, not to me. And seriously not even I'm ready for another evening with Mr. Sex-god Ackles and his admittedly pretty amazing aim at my prostate over and over again.”

Jensen's reply was almost a purr, his voice so low it made the hair at the nape of Jared's neck stand on end. “What about a blowjob then? Just a quickie before I gather my stuff, huh?”

It was an offer Jared couldn't resist and he let Jensen blow him, right then, right there in the middle of the alley and with his eyes fluttered shut against the bright, overhead lights. Jared didn't last long and their kisses afterward tasted like salt and bitterness, leaving the boy wondering while Jensen went off to pack his things and slip into coat and shoes.

Jensen was ready to leave only a few minutes later. They kissed again, Jared pressed against the door frame and Jensen's hands slipping under his shirt to scrape blunt nails over his taut stomach. Saying goodbye had probably never been so hard, but time was running out and Jensen was already late. He promised to come by tomorrow though, and the thought made Jared stand and wave Jensen goodbye with a smile, his toes curling in his socks and his lips pulled into a wide smile.

Strictly speaking, Jensen didn't keep his word. He didn't appear again on Jared's doorstep the next day, but the very same night, bundled up against the cold and with more booze to celebrate. He had managed to pick up some movies on his way and the night was pretty much spent like the one before with the two of them making out on the sofa and the TV running in the background. Only this time with better movies.

They didn't go to sleep until the sun rose in the East and after being fucked against the wall of Danneel's office, held up by Jensen's strength and the bulk of his body, Jared crashed into the mattress face first, ass sore and leaking. He felt lightheaded, thoroughly fucked-out and his skin tingled with the traces left by Jensen's lips and teeth. His own come was still running down his thighs, making him shiver as it rapidly cooled down and though his every bone ached from being bent in half next to the door frame, he couldn't remember being that happy in years. Littered with bite-marks and hickeys blooming along his collarbones, he felt oddly content with the thought of belonging somewhere. To someone. And for the first time since they had met Jared allowed himself a glimpse of hope, that maybe, just maybe there was something like a future waiting for him and Jensen. This was New York after all, and that's where dreams came true, right?

Jensen left on the morning of the 28th before any of the girls showed up. They had shared a fast and fervid orgasm before getting out of bed, and by the time they were bidding each other goodbye, their pulses were still skyrocketing and a dust of pink lingered on their cheekbones.

“So you really wanna leave me until next year?” Jared joked, fingers idly playing with the soft hair at the nape of Jensen's neck.

“It's not a matter of want and more of being a representative of our company.”

Jared scoffed. “You know that's the worst excuse for getting paid to get drunk I've ever heard.”

“Getting drunk is the only way not to go crazy with those people,” Jensen replied with a sigh and scrubbed a hand over his face before leaning his forehead against Jared's. “I just want this to be over so I can be Jensen Ackles again instead of 'daddy's boy'.”

“Oh come on, Mr. Grumpy-pants. It ain't so bad. There will be free drink and food and it's only one fucking evening, get a grip.” Jared shook his head, laughing. “And whenever you get bored just think of me all alone here and jerking off to the thought of riding your cock.”

“More like all alone and trying to calm twenty howling dogs, you nerd,” Jensen replied dryly.

Jared shrugged. “Still better than babysitting daddy's friends, though.”

“Checkmate,”

They kissed until Danneel's car rolled up the driveway and after Jensen had cupped his face for one last time to brush their lips together, Jared felt incredibly empty when he waved the man goodbye, a few stray tears welling in the corners of his eyes. Wiping them away quickly, he watched Jensen pull out of the spot next to Danneel's old Jeep and was actually grateful for his boss ushering him to work shortly after. Feeding the pack would help him swallow around the lump in his throat and lift his spirits. It always did the trick.

 ♦ 

Jared had never wanted to actually cross the street to confront that guy with the douchey cap on the evening of the 31st of December. But it turned out that asshole had tried to shoot fireworks at a few stray cats and when Jared walked by after providing the feeding station in the suburbs with fresh dog chow, he couldn't believe what he was seeing. And after realizing the perverted fun the guy kept getting from aiming at the rugged, skinny animals in the half-dark, there was just no way of stopping himself from stepping in.

He did try to argue first, tried to talk the guy and his three friends out of their cruel game. But when they only laughed and threatened Jared instead of leaving the kittens be, Jared saw red. Glad to have left Harley at the shelter, he had started shouting and shaking his hard fists, insulting those guys, anything to lure them away from the small, unguarded animals, really. And that's why he wasn't surprised when one of the men lunged forward after only a few moments to get at him. He was tall, broad and his swings fairly simple to dodge even in the slippery slush that covered New York's sidewalks on New Year's Eve. He didn't land a single hit, but eventually tripped and Jared only had to give him a harsh shove to send him falling on his butt. The other three stopped their hollering right there and Jared had mere seconds to gather his thoughts before he felt a set of strong arms being wrapped around his wrists and yanking them behind his back. Someone pulled his hair, hard, and another yelled into his face, sputtering hot saliva all over his cheeks. Jared had been in enough fights to know what was going to follow next and only groaned quietly when the guy with the douchey cap dug his fist into the hollow of Jared's stomach. The second punch was harder, better aimed, and knocked all wind out of the boy's body, leaving him reeling and the others laughing cruelly. Their voices mingled with the sounds of the fireworks exploding over New York and it was easy to mistake the flickering in front of Jared's eyes for sparkles of red, white and blue.

The third and last hit struck hard and right into the center of Jared's face. The boy's nose gave a crunching noise and a split second later Jared felt warm blood dribbling down his chin. His lower lip burned from being torn open by the impact and when the guy behind him yanked his head back to give his friend better aim, Jared tasted copper on his tongue. That was when a bunch of people rounded the corner down the street and after a beat of silence, Jared could hear their voices rise in anguish. The pressure on Jared's wrists and hair faded immediately and after a last kick against Jared's shin the violent attackers scrambled away, fleeing into the night like the cowards they had been all along.

It turned out to be a little bit of a pain in the ass to get rid of the group of friends who had just saved Jared's ass. After making sure Jared was able to stand on his own, they insisted on calling an ambulance and only a quick lie saved Jared from being dragged around the city for the rest of the night. They left after Jared had repeatedly reassured them he was going to be picked up by a friend at any second and only when the group vanished into the darkness at the end of the street, did Jared find the time to inspect the damage himself.

Running his hands down his torso, he checked for possibly broken bones and wasn't exactly surprised to find ribs and breast bone unharmed. There was a bump forming on his shin where the guy's boot had crashed into the bone, but apart from his split lip and the constant stream of warm, red blood dribbling down his face, he was fine. With delicate fingers, he circled the swollen area around his nose and was relieved to find the tip and nostrils neither torn nor squished. It was alright, and though every careful touch made him hiss in pain, Jared tried to tell himself that he had had worse and that a little blood down his shirt would at least make him look like a badass for the rest of the night.

Despite the dull ache coiling in his stomach and the swollen shin, Jared continued on his way to the shelter after a few more seconds of even breathing. Trudging through the dirty slush, he wandered through the darkness of Manhattan's back streets at almost one in the morning. He hadn't exactly planned on returning to the city that late, but one of the dogs at the station had been uncharacteristically trusting and after an hour of low talking and barely no movements at all, the big, gray animal had allowed Jared to check him for possible injuries and comb careful fingers through his shaggy fur. He had sat down next to the boy after another twenty minutes in almost-silence and glad about the success, Jared hadn't dared to move a finger until the giant dog had lifted himself up to trot away again, leaving Jared grinning and with excitement thrumming through his veins. Afterward he had tried to take the subway, but had been cast out almost immediately by a bunch of security guards. And while he was venturing on the long way home, the year had already faded and turned into another without Jared even having noticed.

With wide steps, Jared strutted down the street, entering the more busy part of the city where people were lining the streets to watch the fireworks go off. They were dressed in neat suits and elegant robes without exception and soon Jared was trapped in a cloud of expensive perfume. He tried to stay away from the crowds as much as possible to avoid snarky remarks. Just because he had gotten used to the way people scrunched their noses whenever he came in sight didn't mean it didn't hurt, right?

He was about to turn around a corner to get as far as human possibly away from the crowded streets, when a familiar voice met his ears. With his heart racing in his chest, Jared turned around and squinted against the fuzzy yellow light of the city just to spot Jensen not far from him, standing on the sidewalk right next to a woman with ruby-red hair and a fur collar. She had her arms hooked into Jensen's, and stood close enough to rest her head on the man's shoulder.

Jared frowned and swallowed hard before blinking the green-eyed monster of jealousy away. All night he had tried to keep his mind from Jensen, the way he smiled and kissed, the way his hands felt at the small of Jared's back and further down. But now that he stood there, with a few stray snowflakes clinging to his hair and his Adam's apple bobbing with the laughter he spilled into the cold night, Jared felt his resolve melting like slush on the sidewalk. Jensen was close enough for Jared to reach out and just touch him, feel him, breathe him for one second before he could continue on his path home. And it was New Year's Eve, was it not?

Wiping the frown from his features and replacing it with a bright smile, Jared marched towards the big group of people surrounding Jensen. He kept his eyes on him, traced the gentle curve of his face like he was drowning and Jensen a piece of flotsam that kept him floating and alive and—

“Jensen,” Jared breathed softly when he was only four steps away. His voice was small and breathy and when suddenly everyone turned to him, Jared could feel his chest constrict, his lungs screaming for oxygen at the sudden rush of attention.

“No donations tonight,” a guy in a gray pin-stripe suit exclaimed as Jared approached and he pulled his wife out of reach. Another man grunted in disgust, some scoffed and the whole group took collective a step back. Including Jensen.

Jared felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. “Jensen, I—“

“Excuse me, do I know you?” Jensen cut in and finally Jared could see his face, his features hard and lips drawn into a tight line. Squaring his shoulders, Jensen pushed forward, jaw tight, so tight, almost looming over Jared. His gaze was blank, as was the space where his heart should have been. He showed no sign of recognizing Jared, acknowledging him for what he was and had been, and flinched when Jared tried to approach him.

“Probably knows your name from a magazine,” someone hollered and Jared felt so small, so small and stupid. Blinking, he tried to draw a stuttering breath, and words seemed to fail him at the sight of Jensen's tall body so hard and unyielding and unforgiving. He looked like a wall, a wall to shut Jared out and lock him away where he belonged. In the dirt. With blood down his shirt and his skin caked with rust, the skinny, small and broken toy he was.

“Jensen, do you know this boy?” the woman with the ruby-hair asked and Jared's legs went numb. Emptiness was aching inside his chest, like a void threatening to consume him whole, and Jensen's words rattled inside his skull, the sound of his dull voice scratching long forgotten wounds open with pointy claws.

Jensen blinked and took a moment before he replied, breathing in as if to steel himself for what was about to come. “No, I've never seen him before.”

The words were like lead and Jared had no armor, no guard and no chance to defend himself against the contempt in Jensen's gaze as he regarded the boy. Robbed of all strength and stunned momentarily, Jared just nodded and the hollow inside his stomach leaked blood and acid into his veins. Unconsciously, he rubbed a hand over his nose and tried to match the stinging pain to the one throbbing between his ribs, smearing thick blood all over his cheeks.

Laughter became loud and a man with ebony skin and black-framed glasses pressed a five dollar note into Jared's numb, empty hands.

“Go, get some help,” he whispered, heart-felt concern on his face, and all Jared could do was nod. Silly, stupid Jared.

Some of the women started to pull their men away and the girl with the ruby-hair grabbed Jensen's stiff hand. “Come on, darling,” she purred. “Let's go back inside, I'm cold and the fireworks are grating on my nerves.”

For a moment it seemed like Jensen was about to say something. His mouth opened and closed, his mouth still tight and thin, and Jared wondered if he ever knew those lips, the way they tasted and how tracked lines down the curve of his back. How they murmured and tugged into small smiles, all blissed-out and content in the yellow light of the storage room.

“Jensen?” the woman spoke again and Jensen tore his gaze from Jared. He didn't spare a glance over his shoulder as he walked away, didn't see Jared stumble backwards until he hit the wall. Jensen didn't look back to see Jared get sick on the sidewalk and his hands stayed cold and empty for the rest of the evening, the champagne tasting like ashes and food turning to dust in his mouth.


	8. Chapter 8

Jared and Jensen didn't see each other for a long, long time.

New Year's Eve faded into January, hours into days and no matter how hard Jensen tried to find Jared, the boy stayed missing. He didn't show up on Jensen's door step to spit in his face like Jensen deserved, he didn't wait for him at the shelter. The storage room was barren, Harley gone and Danneel fuming when Jensen stepped through the front door on the fifth of January. Cursing Jensen and throwing insults at him, she pushed him out of the shelter without giving him a chance to explain. And there wasn't much to explain in the first place, was there? Jensen had screwed up, and there was nothing to erase the fact that he had been a complete asshole. The desert inside his chest, desolate and all-engulfing, was witness to his failure and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't come up with a proper explanation. There was no excuse, no way to say I'm sorry when he sat in his apartment at night, cheeks slick with tears and heart silent inside the cage of his crackling bones. He was haunted by Jared's face, the look in his eyes when Jensen turned him down, blood-covered and ragged, with threadbare jeans and his terrible beanie and cheeks like apples. How he stood there with his eyes bright, the last traces of Jensen's hungry mouth fading beneath the layers of clothing and the tip of his nose swollen. He really had looked like a boy that night, frightened and nervous at first, then defeated and small, crushed by the words Jensen had ground out around a mouth full of ashes and regret. Grief laced with quiet acceptance, acceptance without a fight, and Jensen would never forget how Jared's slim flanks trembled and the way his eyes brimmed with salt and bitter tears.

Jensen came back to the shelter a week later only to find Julie and Genevieve cleaning the kennels. Their words were clipped and their eyes sparked with anger, but they let Jensen ask his questions without knowing the answers. Where did Jared go? When was the last time he was seen? Did he leave a note? Was he alright?

_Would he come back?_

Both women shrugged and the corners of Genevieve's eyes were streaked with moisture, her bottom lip quivering when she slapped a small, dirty envelope into Jensen's hand.

“It has your name on the front,” she explained with a voice like gravel. “And it's the only thing he left behind. So go on, take it. And then go and never show your face around here again.”

Jensen nodded and took the women's wrath with a ducked head. He knew it was justified and he didn't allow himself any illusions. Inside the car he opened the envelope only to pour a bunch of dollar bills in his lap. There was no note, no explanation, no number, only the next payment for the veterinary clinic's horrendous bill, and the bridge of Jensen's nose prickled with unspilled tears.

Life went on without Jensen. January flew by, February followed, and only at night, when he was driving around the city to look for Jared, did Jensen feel something close to alive. He didn't work out anymore, barely ate, and every fiber of his body longed to see that scrawny boy again. Words failed to describe the despair that bloomed in his chest when he drove past the shelter. Nightmares nestled inside his brain and sometimes when he awoke with a start, he felt lost and cast out of a society he had never wanted to be part of.

It was a sunny morning in March when Jensen decided to see the workers at the shelter. Maybe they knew something, just something, a little glimpse, a sign that Jared was still alive. Last time, Katie had smacked Jensen right about the head before pushing him out of the door and Jensen didn't expect it to be any different today. But it was a risk he was willing to take, and when he stepped into the cool entrance area of the shelter, his eyes were immediately drawn to a young woman with chestnut-colored hair and a round face with hazel eyes. She was small and fragile and her hand was clinging to a flannel, the fabric worn-soft and the pattern distinctive and familiar to Jensen.

Ignoring Danneel's bristling anger and the wild gaze she shot him, Jensen stepped forward. “Where did you get that?” he barked, startling the young woman in the center of the room.

“E-Excuse me?” The woman turned to look at Jensen with her brows furrowed.

“The shirt! Where did you get that?”

Danneel's voice was sharp when she stepped in. “You don't have to answer, honey. You don't owe him anything,”

Jensen snorted. “But that's Jared's shirt and I want to know where she got it from,” he exclaimed. Anger was buzzing beneath his skin and for the first time in weeks he felt awake and conscious.

“You know Jared?” the woman asked tentatively, eyes wandering between Jensen and Danneel. Genevieve and Katie came bolting through the back door to join their boss behind the counter, looking grim and determined to give Jensen a hard time.

“Yeah, I—“

“He's Jensen,” Katie barked from where she stood. “Jensen Ackles, remember? You saw his stupid face plastered all over the magazines earlier.”

The woman's eyes went wide. “ _You're_ Jensen Ackles? Wow, you look... wrecked.”

“Thanks, I had a few rough nights.”

Danneel and her workers only scoffed at that, but no one interrupted when the young woman stepped closer to Jensen. She was still clutching the flannel close to her chest and the harsh look on her face somewhat melted when she extended her hand to Jensen.

“I'm Megan, Megan Padalecki. And I'm here to retrieve my brother's shirt for him.”

Jensen couldn't help but gape at the words. He had expected anything from someone collecting unwanted clothing for the homeless to being the victim of a horrible mistake. He was still half anticipating getting his butt kicked by Katie and Danneel at any second, but instead the woman with the chestnut-colored hair smiled softly.

“You're... Jared has a sister?” Jensen sputtered before his mind had caught up to his lips and suddenly there was hope blooming in his chest. Maybe—just _maybe_ —there was a way to see him again. If only for the chance to say sorry. It wouldn't fix the damage he had done, just like saying sorry to a cup one had smashed and which was still broken after the words, but he wanted Jared to know.

“Yeah, he's not much of a talker, right?” Megan sighed, grabbing a paper bag from the counter and cramming the flannel inside.

“Do you know where he is? I mean is he all right? And Harley?” Jensen babbled and much to his surprise Megan smiled again.

“They're okay,” she replied before turning to the shelter workers. “Thank you so much for your hospitality guys, I owe you big time.”

Danneel's scowl faded into a sweet smile. “Any time, Meg. Come by and see us again soon?”

“Sure,” Meg agreed and waved the girls goodbye with a smile. She was about to do the same with Jensen when something stirred in the man's chest. With a stutter his heart kicked to life and he grabbed the only chance he had.

Pushing away the anxiety and confusion that pumped through his veins and after months of stumbling aimlessly through the dark, Jensen took the reigns again. Stepping forward, he offered Megan a smile, something he hadn't worn in what felt like an eternity.

“It's almost lunch time and I was just thinking about grabbing some of the best hot dogs New York has to offer? Care to join me?”

The look on Meg's face turned wary and she bit her lip for a moment, considering Jensen's words. “I... I don't know,” she uttered then, inspecting her nails and their audience and then Jensen again. Jensen in his rumpled suit and with messy hair and bags under his eyes and a golden scruff that spread down his neck.

“It's just around the corner and won't take too long, I promise,” Jensen tried to persuade her.

Meg shrugged. “I just don't think it's a good idea at all, Mr. Ackles,”

“I just want to... talk. Please, just talk and eat. Please.”

Meg's resolve seemed to melt somewhat at that and with a sigh and a nod towards Danneel she finally gave in. “Okay, let's go and grab some of those dogs you told me about. You better be right about their quality, though. I don't not mess around when it comes to food.”

“They won't disappoint, I promise.”

 ♦ 

After they purchased a steaming hot dog for each of them, they found a nice place in the nearby park between the bare branches of the trees. It was only March and the sun was far from shooing away the lingering ghost of the winter's cold, but the wood of the small park bench was warm and the air clear and both Megan and Jensen sat down with a contented sigh.

“So what do you think? Best hot dog?”

“Not the best one I ever had, but definitely the best I ever had in New York City,” Meg admitted with a smile before taking an even bigger bite from the mustard-smeared sausage. She seemed relaxed, but Jensen knew that she was holding back and still felt somewhat threatened by his presence. Apparently she knew at least the ugly details of his relationship with her brother.

“So, what's the deal with you and Jared?” Megan asked after wiping her mouth with a napkin, surprising Jensen with her boldness.

It took the man a few moments to gather the words that had been stuck in his chest for far too long and when he spoke, his voice was small and quiet. “Do you wanna know the whole story or just the highlights?”

“No details please,” Meg grinned. “I have a pretty vivid imagination and while I love my brother dearly, I'm not too keen on picturing his more or less adventurous love life.”

“Definitely more,” Jensen replied with a matching smirk before turning serious again. “But the short version it is. I assume you know how we met?”

Megan nodded, her hair gently flowing in the breeze. “Yeah, that I do. And I know about Harley. Jared told me how you stood up for that terrible, slobbering beast and well, I'm glad you did. That dog is Jared's family.”

“And you're not?”

The look on Megan's face didn't change and only the shadow that flickered through her eyes gave a glimpse of what she was feeling. “I'm Jared's sister by birth; Harley is the family he chose.”

Jensen nodded. “Sounds like something Jared would do. Did he tell you about, um, what happened after?”

“He told me that you two, well, fucked, and that you weren't half as much as an asshole the magazines made you look like. Until you were, and that's all I know. There's a blank where the heartbreaking sob-story should be and honestly I'm kinda curious. Jared isn't easily scared and—“

“He's scared?”

Megan shrugged and finished her hot dog with a last bite before cleaning her hands of mustard and greasy onions with the napkin. “Let me put it this way: he's not who he used to be and I might have missed a year or two, but I know Jared and he's a survivor.”

“And he's not anymore?” Jensen inquired, hot dog forgotten in his hand.

“How about you go on with your story?” Megan said and crossed her legs on the bench, gaze now drawn to Jensen's face.

Hazel eyes studying him, Jensen swallowed and nodded. “As you already said we got close and for a while things were good. And by good I mean fucking amazing. Your brother is like... fuck, he's the holy grail of dudes. Everything is so easy with him: talking, working, laughing. Nothing seems to take effort. I didn't know people like that existed. He blew my mind and, well, no details right?”

Megan nodded, but motioned for him to go on.

“I never dated someone who wasn't rich or spoiled before. Hell, I don't even know if fucking in the storage room of an animal shelter counts as dating. But I couldn't care less. Your brother... Jared, he made me forget about what I wanted and instead gave me what I needed.”

Megan's lips tugged into a small smile and her voice was soft when she opened her mouth to talk. “What happened?”

The vise-like grip around Jensen's heart squeezed and squeezed until he gasped and it took him a full minute to untangle his tongue and breathe out the words laced with so much regret and sorrow.

“Well, you pretty much covered it earlier. I was an asshole. A complete and utter fuck-up and Jared did what every reasonable person would have done: he left.”

Silence stretched between them and once again it was Megan who broke it by snatching the remnants of the hot dog out of Jensen's hand with nimble fingers. Spreading the mustard some more, she took a huge bite from the now cool sausage.

“I think I'll have those details now, Jensen,” she then said, not bothering with the Mr. Ackles anymore.

Jensen swallowed and pinched the bridge of his nose before continuing, squeezing his eyes shut. “I was ordered to spend the night with important business partners of my dad's company. Around midnight we went outside to get some fresh air and watch the fireworks and suddenly Jared showed up. He was all roughed-up, blood down his shirt, nose swollen and clothes looking like shit. He... he tried to talk to me and I... I...”

“Yeah?” Megan's voice was calm, but had a ring of steel and glass to it.

“I sent him away. Can you believe what a fucking moron I am? I lied, told everyone I didn't know who he was and walked away from him like he had been just a cheap fuck for me. I-I walked away from him and pretended not to care about him. Can you believe that?”

Megan didn't say anything, but her forehead lay in wrinkles and her intense focus zoned in on Jensen, her gaze scrutinizing.

“I left him there. Jared, I mean. Hurt like he was, abandoned him when he needed me. Must have been a fucking huge deal for him to step up to all those stupid fuckwads I was surrounding myself with. And I blew it, I fucking blew it. Let him down, denied him like it all meant nothing. And I can't stop imagining what he must think about me now. How he must think he means nothing to me when, in fact, he... he means...”

Jensen voice broke halfway through the sentence and he was glad when Megan picked up the conversation again a few moments later. She was still watching Jensen like a hawk, but her expression had softened.

“Do you wanna know why Jared left our family and decided to lead a life like that?” she asked, taking in Jensen's desperate nod.

“Our brother Jeff, Jared and I, we're all three heirs to Padalecki Corp., the biggest oil in- and export company in Texas. I'm pretty sure you heard about our dad's enterprise in the media somewhere?”

Jensen looked like someone had just smacked him right about the head and mouth hanging open he nodded, stunned.

“Right, that's what I thought. Our dad, Gerald, is not a very forgiving man and it would be a downright lie to say he handled Jared's personality very well in the past. He's a traditionalist in every sense of the term and well, you can imagine living with Jared and my dad wasn't exactly what we call a peaceful coexistence. He didn't even try to understand my brother's decisions concerning his life in general and sexuality in particular and when Jared finally came out as openly gay, my dad made his point very clear. Meaning, he took away his freedom and forced him to go to church every Sunday and stuff like that. Which was more than just a little hypocritical, considering my dad never really attended a single mass himself.”

“Fuck,” Jensen muttered, mind still reeling from the revelations and heart thudding in his chest.

“Exactly. Jared was fucked, and this was only the beginning. Things got worse and worse, my dad threatened to disown Jared, to make me heir instead. He was obsessed with the idea of Jared bringing shame over the family and one night things got terribly out of hand. Dad was drunk and Jared came home late, reeking of sweat and cologne from a night out in a club. Gerald didn't even listen, just screamed and when I came downstairs I saw him pushing Jared off the front porch.”

Megan stopped to take a breath and Jensen found himself unable to resist the urge to grab the girl's quivering hands, cradling them gently in his own palms.

“I remember Jared's face, the way his jaw clenched and I knew he had made a decision, lying there in my mother's bed of roses, blood soaking through his shirt and tears streaming down his face. I drove him to the hospital that night and watched a nurse patch him up again where a piece of wood had torn the skin on his left side.”

“The scar across his ribs,” Jensen mumbled, watching Megan nod in horror.

“He was still so young and so goddamn determined, even when he cried in my arms that night. He left the same week, only Harley and a backpack full of clothes with him. He didn't tell anyone. Left a letter under my pillow though, asked me to tell our dad he can keep his money and Jared would keep his dignity instead. I was so proud of him, Jensen, I still am. He made his own way, even though it was so much harder than what was offered by birth. He never once asked for help, refused the money I offered him. He was pulling through with strength and insistence, never withering in all those months.”

Megan made a brief pause to catch her breath. “But when he called me a few days ago I was scared for him for the first time in years. He sounded so weak, so broken, not the fierce brother I remembered him to be.”

“Shit,” Jensen groaned, letting go of Meg to bury his face in the warmth of his hands. To hide. “So he opened up to someone for the first time and of course I was the stupid asshole that let him down, fucking failed him.”

The girl nodded. For a long time neither of them spoke, and when Meg raised her voice again it was crackling with grief. “You hurt him bad, Jensen, and I'm not sure if you can fix it again.”

Her hand flew up to touch the nape of Jensen's neck, making him look up into a set of tear-glazed, hazel eyes.

“But that doesn't mean you can't try, right?”

Jensen didn't dare to speak, but the voice inside his head screamed until his lungs collapsed and with a small nod he let himself be pulled into a firm, short embrace.

“Then go and make things right again, rich, spoiled brat. 'Cause from what I can see he still needs you. He might not know 'cause he can't see past his pain yet, but I know my brother and I know he believes in second chances.” Meg spoke into his collar and her breath smelled sweet and warm.

“What can I do to make it up to you?”

“Go and make my brother happy, you insufferable idiot. And don't tell him I told you about him crying in my arms, he wouldn't take it well.”

 ♦ 

Jensen stared at the tiny, crumpled piece of paper in his hand. The address Megan had scribbled down for him matched the one on the small building in front of him and still Jensen took a second to make sure.

In the gray, fuzzy light of the early morning, everything seemed soft around the edges. Shreds of fog wafted through the streets of the provincial town and the world was still asleep, no lights behind the blank surfaces of the windows facing the street. After bidding Megan goodbye, Jensen had jumped into his Camaro and had left New York City behind. He had called work from inside the car, had only stopped once or twice to take a piss and had kept himself awake with coffee and granola bars while he sped towards the dawning sun. The night had been long on the road and Jensen groaned quietly as he stretched his limbs, eyes still drawn to the small building with the shabby front, securely nestled between two freshly painted houses.

 _Chad's bakery_ said the sign right above the door and when Jensen took a step closer he could see some light falling through the shop window, a sliver of yellow and warmth. “There's a back door right around the corner,” Meg had said while handing Jensen the note with the address. “Jared will be working in the early morning; you'll find him in the storage room or kitchen.”

Jensen was shivering with anxiety when he walked towards the small door in the back of the building that said 'Private. No admittance'. He didn't bother sorting out his hair or smoothing the wrinkles out of his rumpled button-down. The gray suit pants he was wearing hung low on his hips and well, he was pretty sure that for once his good looks wouldn't make it any easier for him.

He didn't bother knocking, like Meg had advised, and opened the door himself instead. It went smoothly, no creaking hinges, nothing the wood banged into, and the smell of flour and pastry and fire stumbled out into the cool March morning, drawing Jensen in. He couldn't feel his fingertips and the steady _thudthudthud_ inside his chest had turned to a hammering, stuttering, uneven rattle. Butterflies turned to lead inside his stomach and right when he thought he was going to lose his nerve and just bolt, Jared came in sight, all chestnut hair and golden tanned skin under a white, flour-stained shirt. He was carrying a cardboard box twice Harley's size and the sleek muscles of his arms flexed around the grip. He looked smaller, skinny and fragile, but still strong like a young ox and Jensen felt his tongue glue itself to the roof of his mouth, unable to speak when Jared turned to take a first look at him after almost three months.

“How did you find me?” Jared's words where calm, betraying the ferocious thunderstorm careening through his body at the sight of Jensen. Jensen, with shadows under his eyes and lips drawn tight like that night all those weeks ago.

“Jared, I—“

“No, how did you find me?” Jared barked, dropping the cardboard box on top of a pile of flour sacks. “Who told you where to look for me?”

Jensen's composure faltered at the harsh words and for a moment he hung his head like a beaten dog. When he replied, his voice was low and raspy. “Your sister told me.”

“Megan?” Jared groaned and took a step forward, wiping his hands on his threadbare jeans. “I should've known.”

“Yeah, I asked her. I met her at the shelter. Jared, I wanted to see you.”

Jared snorted, his body going rigid. This wasn't the witty, clever boy Jensen had met half a year ago in the bowels of New York City, this was another Jared, all sharp bones and hard angles. He was still tall and there was a bit of flour clinging to the tip of his nose—but with his jaw clenched and fingers curled into hard, sharp fists he looked more like a cornered predator.

“Well, you saw me. I'm still kicking,” he sneered and ducked his head, teeth grinding. “And I want you to leave. Now.”

“Jared please, I want to talk to you.”

“But I don't wanna talk to you, Jensen. Imagine that,” Jared spat as he squared his shoulders, eyes sputtering with uncovered anguish. After weeks of burying himself in grief and feeling thin and wounded, Jared was ready to forget about Jensen. He was ready to leave it behind, leave it all behind, and start a new life. Again.

How dare Jensen show up like this? How dare he come back to Jared after he'd only just begun to forget him? How was that even fair?

“Please, you don't have to say anything. Just listen, okay?” Jensen pleaded, fucking begged, and there was a tremble in his voice. Jared was inclined to just shove Jensen out of the door he had come in through, lock him out along with all the memories and the sorrow that kept on churning in his stomach. But honestly, Jared didn't trust himself, didn't trust his ability to walk and move and so he just stayed where he was, waiting silently, nails digging deep grooves in his palms the shape of crescent moons.

“I'm a fucking idiot, Jared,” Jensen started, his voice now thick with grief. “I did something I'm not proud of and I don't know if I can make it right again, but here I am to give it a try. I have no explanation for you. I tried to tell myself that I was just surprised, that you just caught me off-guard, but hell, that's one lame-ass excuse, huh?”

“You're damn right it is,” Jared ground out. He felt he was about to vibrate out of his skin at any second, his chest clenched so tight and tendons ready to snap.

“Truth is I fucked up and I don't know how fix it. Remember that morning when we fucked against the wall, just you and me and nothing between us? Man, I was never so much in love than back then. Your lips, your eyes, your skin, the words you whispered into my ear; everything was perfect that morning and I felt like after years of stumbling through the dark I finally found the sun. You made me forget who I was, made me want to build something new. You still do.”

Jensen's voice cracked at that and Jared needed to look up, see him. Beautiful, sturdy, fucked-up Jensen, with blank eyes and quivering lips.

“And when you stood there that night, covered in blood and looking like a fucking street rat with your dirty sweater and all, I just... I don't know. Maybe I got scared. 'Cause fuck, I still loved you. Messed up and bloody as you were. And I wanted you to be mine and mine alone. I-I wanted to fucking grab you and keep you and kill everyone who came near you. And I was scared shitless, Jared. 'Cause that ain't normal, right? Being so fucking stupid with love that you're consumed with it the need to share the same air every fucking hour of the day. That's not how it's supposed to be, right?”

Jared huffed out a mirthless laugh at that. “So instead you decided to dump me in the trash like a stupid little fuck-toy you'd grown tired off?”

“Yeah, it must have felt like that for you.”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

Jensen drew a shuddering breath and pinching the bridge of his nose, he continued with a voice like gravel and his gaze locked to Jared's heaving chest. “Look Jared, I've nothing to offer other than a stupid I'm sorry. And I know that doesn't make it right or wipe away the damage I've done, but I want you to know that I... that I'm not tired of you. Denying you in front of all those assholes was the biggest fucking mistake of my whole life and I can only try to begin to understand what you've gone through.”

“No Jensen, you don't understand. What you did wasn't simply sending me away, you fucking dumped me because I was inconvenient, because you somehow suddenly realized that I don't fit into your world. And you know what? Newsflash, I don't care about those stupid faces you surrounded yourself with that night. They weren't the reason I came. I only cared about you. I came for you. And you cast me out like... like—“

“Like your asshole of a father did before me, right?”

Jared wasn't even surprised to hear the words and only nodded, defeated and suddenly so tired. “You didn't want me anymore because of the skin I wear and the blood and the bruises, because I'm uncomfortable. Because my scars tell a story and I had a life before you. And that's damn easy, you know.”

Jensen seemed to crumble some more under the words and silence settled in the messy storage room of the bakery for a long time, just their heavy breathing hanging in their air between them like a dull echo of their words. Outside the building, the sun climbed higher in the sky and slowly the gray of the world faded, turned to gold.

“I'm an idiot, Jared. I'm sorry I did that to you, I'm sorry I let you walk away thinking I didn't care about you. And I'm so sorry it took me forever to find you. I'm such a fucking failure, Jay. And a fool for letting you go.”

Jared didn't even try to hold back the choked out “Yeah, you fucking are,” and then they were quiet again. Jared buzzing with energy and righteous wrath, Jensen in his blinding white button-down and with a messy scruff spreading down his neck, breathing shallow. The air between them was surging with energy, flaring like electricity. White-hot sparks zinged up Jared's spine like remnants of the pleasure he once took from being close to the man in front of him.

Jensen's eyes were glassy and blank when he eventually looked up, his gaze finding Jared's and green melting into hazel. “Am I too late, Jared?”

The boy huffed out a long, deep-drawn breath. “What do you want me to say, Jensen?” he replied after a moment, voice even. “You gave me a fucking kick in the teeth and I'm not sure if I can... if things can be the way they were before.”

Jensen shook his head. “Then let's make something new, Jay. Give me a chance to make it up to you.”

“To be honest I'm not sure you can, Jensen. I don't need pledges or promises or a good fuck, what I need is time. And a goddamm punching bag to be honest. I'm so angry, I could punch you right in your stupidly pretty face, asshole.”

The words stirred a small, barely-there smile on Jensen's lips. “Go ahead, Boy Wonder.”

“No thanks, I still gotta work with these,” Jared replied and raised his hands. For the first time he didn't sound as clipped and tight anymore. The look on his face had gradually changed from angry to hurt and was now thoughtful, lower lip drawn between his teeth to suck on the plush flesh.

“I need time, Jensen. Need to think about your words and what I want, okay? And I gotta finish my work before Chad shows up.”

Jensen nodded and his stomach churned and coiled with the void, tangled with black, gaping despair. “Yeah sure.”

“There's a motel down the road. Go, get some sleep, you look fucking wasted. I'll come by when I'm done here and then we'll talk.”

It didn't sound final, but it felt that way to Jensen, and when Jared shooed him out of the bakery and into the bright, warm March morning, he couldn't get rid of the feeling of having lost everything.

 ♦ 

A loud knock on the door, followed by an even louder bark, startled Jensen awake and he scrambled to his feet with a grunt. He had just fallen asleep mere seconds ago and had trouble focusing. Grabbing the knob tight, so tight, he almost ripped the door out of its hinges when he pulled it open, revealing a disheveled Jared and a yipping Harley straining his leash to get to Jensen.

“Heya buddy,” Jensen greeted and dropped to his knees. He slung an arm around Harley's thick neck and for a second or two he rested his face in the yellow fur, drawing a deep breath. Here, stuck between the dog's soft coat and his jingling leather collar, nothing had changed and for a moment it was easy to pretend. But the feeling of Jared pushing past the kneeling man, was like reality's punch to Jensen's gut and he got up with a sigh, leading Harley inside and closing the door behind him.

“I did some thinking,” Jared said quietly into the heavy silence. He was sitting on the bed, palms flat against the sheets and thumbs brushing the hollow Jensen's body had left, gathering the lingering warmth. “And you know what? I came to the conclusion that thinking isn't what I need. It leads nowhere and I can't keep doing... this.”

There was no visible reaction from Jensen, so Jared went on. “I don't need to think, I don't need words, Jensen. I need you. And I mean all of you and not only when it's convenient. I need... I need you as a whole, as lover and loyal friend, as someone I can love and who isn't ashamed of who I am.”

Jensen's eyes were bright as starlight when Jared spilled the words that were surging through him like wildfire.

“I need you to understand that I'm not okay with what happened and that I'm angry. I'm hurt Jensen, and it's not about getting a fucking grip. I need you to see me, see me as who I am and not as who you want me to be. I need you to listen, to _really_ listen. But most of all, I need you, Jensen. 'Cause fuck, I fucking love you.”

Jensen's sob was quiet and barely there, but when he pushed off the door to walk over to Jared, a single tear slid down his cheek, unchecked, unacknowledged, but real and honest. Dropping to his knees in front of Jared, Jensen let the boy cradle his face with cool hands.

“Can you give me what I need, Jensen? Can you promise to not let me go again until I ask you to?”

Jensen's whispered “yes,” was drowned by their sobbing, lost somewhere between their lips as their mouths fused together. It was swallowed by their lips and tongues and rolled down their bare throats, connected them in a single soft moan that made their pulses sky-rocket.

“Yes,” Jensen mumbled again when they pulled apart. “Yes, Jared, fuck a thousand times yes.”

Jared pulled him in for another kiss, still warm and soft and slow. It was what they both needed now, reassuring and leisurely, something to hold on to as their fingers tangled against Jensen's cheeks.

“I love you, you stupid, prissy, spoiled brat,” Jared muttered under his breath, leaning down to press their faces together until their noses nudged, smothering their skin in snot and tears.

“Love you, too, nerd,” Jensen admitted and arched up and into Jared, kissing his soft, yielding lips and breathing him in. Flour, skin, sweat, clean soap.

They both knew there was still a lot to work out, still so much to talk about. But determined to pull through, they would fill the gap that was keeping their bodies apart. Time was on their side.

**THE END**

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my first Big Bang and if you've come this far, I hope you enjoyed it. You can find me on [tumblr](http://mermanjared.tumblr.com/) and maybe, if you're up for it, leave a comment and/or a kudo. Both is much appreciated and makes the rabbit heart inside my chest jump with glee. 
> 
> My thanks go to my artist, [quickreaver](http://quickreaver.tumblr.com/), who is incredibly talented and made me want to give my best for this challenge. C, your art is stunning beyond words and I'm in awe of your talent, your willpower and the fantastic fanarts you bestow upon us. Thank you for helping me through my first Big Bang experience and bearing with my bubbling enthusiasm. 
> 
> I wanna thank my friends, who kept me going, who patted my back and cheered for me. You know who you are, thank you for everything you do for me. Everyday. You're the best bunch of lunatics one can hope for and I wouldn't be who I am today without your relentless support and the fierce love you bless me with. Thank you. 
> 
> And last but not least, I wanna thank the one person who made it all possible, who's not only my biggest fan and beta but also my best friend, my soulmate, and the most impossible, incredible, infinitely beautiful person—Jess.  
> I would never have had the courage to do any of this without you and your relentless support kept me going through all the ups and downs. You cheered for me and provided me with new, brilliant ideas when I felt my brain had turned to mush and even though you don't ship J2, you never ceased to come up with words of encouragement for my story. You participated in this challenge yourself and you were busy with probably six million other projects, and still you agreed to beta for me once again. I can't thank you enough for what you've done for me, and what you still do for me, everyday of our lives. 
> 
> I will never forget how we signed up together, side by side, on your sofa, sharing the same space and how I, five thousand miles from Germany, finally felt at home. You made my first Big Bang possible, kept me together, made me do it, helped me pulling through, fought with and for me when things in my life got ugly, helped me back on my feet when I stumbled and fell. You're the most important, Jess, and I love you more than words can say. _Never, in fact, homeless._
> 
> Elenya xxx


End file.
